


Common Enemies

by mmorgan317



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Carson Whump, Crossover, Doctor Whump, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:27:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 60,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmorgan317/pseuds/mmorgan317
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gang from Atlantis meet the Doctor and Rose in a prison where they form a tentative bond – not only with each other, but with their captors – in order to escape. Shep whump, Doctor whump, Carson whump. </p><p>This is cross-posted via Fanfiction.net - just an FYI. However, I am rewriting it slowly but surely..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SGA set after the series ends with Carson still on Atlantis and Weir still in charge, so A/U definitely a theme. I’ll announce spoilers as they come. 
> 
> 2: Also, the Doctor will regenerate sometime during this pic and become 11, which is why both doctors are listed. Poor Rose is going to have to put up with three different versions of her doctor during her time as companion :)

This is a pickle,” Lt. Colonel John Sheppard announced as he slumped down the wall, landing on the dirt floor with a _thump_. He hoped that he’d hid the sound of dejection from his voice and judging by the annoyed and angry look on Rodney’s face – he’d succeeded.

 

“I think this is much more than a pickle!” Rodney snapped holding up his scanner to see if he could find a point of weakness or another signal to contact and call for help.

 

John rolled his eyes and refrained from blowing out a breath of annoyance. “All I’m saying, Rodney, is we’re stuck.”

 

“Why thank you Colonel Obvious for explaining that to me. I never would have figured that out on my own,” came the overly sarcastic reply. The physicist spared a moment for a glare before returning back to his scanning.

 

“Is there no way for us to try and break out?” Teyla asked softly, hoping to diffuse the tension that had been slowly building to a magnificent crescendo since they’d arrived.

 

“No,” Rodney answered as though the answer should be obvious, “I can’t find a single weakness in the steal and the locks aren’t like anything I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Like that’s ever stopped you before,” John quipped with a sarcastic smile.

 

“Unlike you, Colonel, I am not a trouble maker. I don’t go looking for locks to break,” Rodney snapped still annoyed.

 

“Oh come on, you aren’t still made that I broke into your lab are you?” Ronon and John shared a smile as they both remembered the day they’d picked the lock on Rodney’s lab and switched out his coffee for decaf. It hadn’t been the best prank they could pull, but at the time their supplies had been limited so it was what they were left with.

 

“Perhaps we could take out the guards,” Teyla suggested again, gracefully bringing the conversation back to its original point. Normally she didn’t mind the subject getting off topic, but at this point it was best not to if they wanted to be free.

 

“I could take two,” Ronon gruffed in reply, pushing away from the wall that he had been appearing to casually lean on since he’d arrived. The smile from earlier left his face at the prospect of taking down two of the creatures that had captured them and replacing it was now a feral sneer that promised pain to anything that got in his way.

 

“That might be plausible,” John started, his hazel eyes brightening in thought and surprise. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

 

“Oh, good plan. And when you all get shot in an attempt to escape, I’ll still be here alone. Never mind the fact that we have absolutely NO idea where we are.”

 

The three fighting members of the team glared at the scientist, exasperation and anger shining in each of their eyes. They all knew the scientist was right but none wanted to outwardly admit it should it build to the already too-big-for-his-own-good-ego.

 

“Point taken,” John replied with snarky emphasis, almost pouting because the quick flame of hope had been extinguished. He pulled up a comfortable spot on the dirt floor, stretching his lean legs out in front of him and leaning his back against the wall. “I guess we’ll just sit here patiently and try to find out what they want.”

 

“And how do you suppose we do that huh?” Rodney snapped, his very limited patience at the end of its rope. “We don’t even know what language they’re speaking or what they are!”

 

“Well, we’ll just have to figure that out then won’t we Rodney,” John answered, his own anger bubbling to the surface underneath his sarcastic mask. “Unless you’re picking up a signal that we don’t know about?”

 

The hopeful note in John’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by any of them. All three of the non-scientific members looked hopefully at Rodney. Even in the barely lit prison, they knew that Rodney had rolled his eyes at them.

 

“Of course. When brawn fails, you all look to the brains to solve the problem,” he griped, not answering their question.

 

“Well, we turn to the guy with the hand-held radio, yeah,” John answered, not wanting to admit that that was exactly what always seemed to happen. He and Ronon shared a smirk at his little jib, but Teyla merely sighed.

 

“’Hand-held radio’? Did you become a friggin moron today, Colonel, or have you always been and were just cleverly hiding it?” That made John stop smirking, although no one but him knew it. Rodney barely gave a few seconds’ pause before he continued, “At any rate. I am detecting a signal, but at the moment it’s too far away for the LSD to connect with.”

 

“So we wait?” John half asked, half grumbled.

 

“Yeah, we wait,” Rodney snapped.

 

“And see if they wish to speak with us?”

 

“That is if they even want to talk,” Ronon interjected evenly.

 

None of the group wanted to even think what would happen if they couldn’t find a way to communicate with the unusual species they’d had the misfortune to offend. But they knew that it wouldn’t be pleasant for them if that were they case.

**~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

The TARDIS landed with a room shaking thump, landing her occupants on the grating that made up her flooring with bruising force. The Doctor was the first to jump off the floor, exuberance and excitement radiating off him and filling his companion with it.

 

“Are you ready for an adventure of a lifetime?” he asked energetically with a smile on his face. There was a light bruise beginning to form on his right side cheek where his head had hit the console of the TARDIS, but it didn’t diminish his enthusiasm.

 

Rose groaned, “The last time you promised me that I ended up enslaved to a maniac that closely resembled Jaba the Hutt with me being Princess Leia.”

 

The smile on the Doctor’s face fell briefly as he frowned at the memory. But it didn’t last long as a wide grin soon replaced it.

 

“Weell,” he said as he drug out the word like he’d become accustomed to doing, “in his defense you did look like her.”

 

“It was supposed to be Halloween in the ‘80s, the 1980s. Instead we ended up on some alien planet where they didn’t even measure time,” Rose defended, giving her friend a light slap on the arm.

 

“This will be different,” the Doctor promised as he impatiently waited for Rose to join him. He grabbed his brown overcoat and threw it on before flinging the doors open. “Come on, time waits for no man!”

 

“Except a Time Lord,” Rose said with a smile.

 

The Doctor smiled at that, one of his wide I’m-such-a-genius smiles that is so infectious it spreads like wild fire, then flung himself out of the time machine.

 

Rose stared at the doorway, arms across her chest and a look of understandable hesitance on her face. Her face split into a smile when she heard a startled, and definitely unmanly, yelp of surprise followed by the sound of someone falling onto the ground below.

 

She laughed merrily as she walked over to the door. The Doctor always liked to exit before looking, often landing himself in a world of trouble that could have easily been avoided. Her laughing only ceased momentarily when a familiar moan came outside the door.

 

“Doctor, are you alright?” she asked trying to hold in the laughter that wanted so desperately to bubble to the surface.

 

“Yes, I’m fine. Rose, are you ever coming out of there?” he whined, obviously tired of waiting for her to join him. “Or are you going to hide in there the entire time like you did on Patax?”

 

“Hey, they wanted to take me back to their tribe and make me a concubine, you can’t hold that against me,” Rose defended, stepping out of the TARDIS and coming to stand by her friend’s side. She carefully jumped down from the landing on which the TARDIS sat, landing gracefully onto the ground which was a good three-foot drop from the door of the TARDIS.

 

As casually as she could, she looked to her right to get a good look at the Time Lord, wanting to make sure he was actually okay and not just ignoring an injury. She frowned slightly as she noticed that he was favoring his right wrist and was wincing with any movement of it. Given that his coat and blazer were covering the arm, she couldn’t see how much damage had been done, but she knew it had to be significant enough if he was favoring it.

 

For the most part, the Doctor liked to ignore his aches and pains in favor of the adventure. Even after said adventure was finished he still refused to admit when he was hurting. It was a trait that drove Rose mad. Eventually she’d be able to get the truth out of him and was allowed to take care of him, but it wasn’t until after a lot of arguing.

 

“Ah there you are!” he cried happily despite being in obvious pain. “Come look. I have no idea where we are but it does have quite the view.”

 

Rose turned her head in the direction he was indicating, shivering slightly as a cool breeze brushed against her skin. A valley opened before her with mountains ending the long stretch. The blue sky was tinged with pink as the fading light continued to sink behind the snow capped rocks. A river ran through the valley, giving the ground around it a lush look and providing nutrients for the multiple multicolored plants that thrived.

 

It was beautiful, but if the Doctor thought that it would distract her from himself, he was sorely mistaken. “Did you hurt your wrist when you fell?”

 

His eyes looked into hers, the freckled cheeks flush with a barely noticeable blush. He held her gaze for about a second before he looked away quickly, taking in their surroundings as he replied, “Yeah.”

 

Rose wanted to sigh then smack him upside the head. Why it was _so_ hard for the alien to admit when he was injured was beyond her.

 

“Is it alright?” she asked, turning her attention from the spectacular view to the Doctor. For a brief moment her eyes flicked down to his wrist, once again trying to discern the amount of damage done, but knowing it was futile she returned her gaze back to the handsome face.

 

“For now,” the Time Lord replied uneasily, his gaze still off in the distance. “But I think if they have anything to say about it that will soon change.”

 

Rose frowned then followed his gaze where a small band of figures were quickly running, obviously heading for their position. It wasn’t in the Doctor’s genetic code to be so distrusting and yet he seemed to fear the group heading toward them. At this distance, Rose couldn’t see anything that would give the Time Lord that impression, but then again, he had more knowledge of the galaxies than she did _and_ better eyesight.

 

“What are they?” Rose asked in his ear as he slowly turned so that he was bodily protecting her, curiosity and fear lacing her voice.

 

“Gabrihath,” he answered almost disdainfully. The way he said the species’ name sounded almost guttural to her ears making her think that was their name in their language rather than English.  

 

Before he had a chance to explain, the group of beings surrounded them, pointing their weapons straight at them, almost like a Roman army would. Their weapons were medieval at best; simple spears decorated with strips of what appeared to be cloth – though it could have been skin now that Rose thought of it – and beads. The spear-end was made of what looked like a broken-off sword, sharp and bright, gleaming in the setting sun.

 

Rose thought that they really didn’t need weapons to intimidate. Their appearance did that well enough as did the foreign creatures they were riding.

 

The Gabrihath were humanoid in basic build, but they looked more like they’d been bred from the giants in fiction stories crossed with short-haired dogs. Their skin seemed to be fur rather than actual dermis, giving them a bit of warmth in the coldness of their planet. They wore nothing on their torsos but straps which held knives, hunting or otherwise, and a quiver for arrows; on their legs were skins that were made into footwear, making them look something akin to the Native Americans before the British had invaded America.

 

Their mounts looked like werewolves the size of a car. Their fur was coarse and thick and beautifully colored; the colors ranged from tawny to pitch black to white as the snow and everything in between. Their snouts were the length of Rose’s arm filled with rows of sharp white teeth that reflected the setting sun as they growled.

 

As one jumped off his mount and stalked over to the Doctor, Rose realized that the giant comparison fit very well considering the being before her towered over her and her friend easily. If she had to guess she would say the man was nine feet tall with the build of an American professional wrestler.

 

“What are you doing here?” the man asked in a harsh, guttural voice. Though his mouth wasn’t moving in English, Rose and the Doctor understood him perfectly well.

 

“Just dropped by for a bit of vacation actually,” the Doctor responded genially, his hand holding on to Rose’s behind him. “We heard there was a lovely little spot where we could find a place to stay, get some food, maybe sunbathe. Could you tell us where it is?”

 

Rose hadn’t seen the giant’s hand move, but she felt the Doctor’s body jerk as the man backhanded him, managing to land the blow in the same spot as his previous bruise.

 

“Well that was uncalled for,” the Doctor drawled, his hand letting go of Rose’s to touch the now very painful cheek. “If you prefer that we leave, all you had to do was say so. We’ll just get back into my ship and we’ll be off.”

 

“You’ll not be going anywhere,” the man answered thickly, stepping even closer to the Doctor. His cold black eyes drifted over to where the TARDIS sat, a light within them shining little by little. Confusion crossed his features but he instantly schooled them back into angry and authoritative, commanding the others with little emotion in his voice. “Take them!”

 

The rest of the Gabrihaths immediately jumped off their mounts and grabbed Rose roughly, pulling her away from the Doctor in one swift motion. They bound her hands behind her back with iron manacles which were connected tightly by a thick chain. She winced as the metal clamped onto her wrists, not liking the feel of it against her skin.

 

Rose looked up to find the Doctor wordlessly allowing the Gabrihaths to bind his hands behind his back as he kept his focus solely on her. He grimaced as the rough hands grabbed his injured wrist and forced into the manacles which appeared to be a snug fit.

 

“Please be careful,” she pleaded, unable to stand the sight of her best friend in pain. Every Gabrihath’s attention was now on her and, though it made her shrink away from them, she continued, “His wrist is injured.”

 

The man who had spoken to the Doctor, and was most certainly the leader, came up to her almost menacingly. He raised a huge, partially clawed hand in a backhand motion, silently threatening her and making her flinch. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Doctor struggle against those that held him in an attempt to stop the creature but it was to no avail.

 

“You will speak when spoken to,” the Gabrihath warned, tracing a claw across her face and down her neck. The leader spun around and began walking back to his mount. “Bring them!” he snapped and the rest immediately obeyed, hauling both her and the Doctor onto separate mounts like they were nothing but a fresh kill.

 

She looked at the Doctor quickly, her eyes searching to make sure that he was mostly okay. Her brown eyes met his and she felt a comforting voice in her head – _Let me lead. Do not talk to them and do not worry. You’ll be okay._

 

As a bump threatened to dislodge her from her mount, Rose wondered if they really would be okay.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Footsteps echoed down the hall drawing the Lanteans’ attention from their pensive thoughts to just beyond the door where the footfalls had stopped. Nervously they waited for the door to open and the torture to begin, but their nerves eased when they heard the familiar sound of manacles being undone.

 

They heard a guttural voice speaking, the tone suggesting a warning then the door was opened and a man with a brown overcoat and black Buddy Holly glasses and a woman with bleach blonde hair, jeans and a tight tee shirt were thrown unceremoniously onto the ground at their feet.

 

The man yelled, “Oi!” along with something else but what the rest was it was lost on the Atlantis natives since it wasn’t in English.

 

“Oh good, more people. Is anyone else claustrophobic or is it just me?” snapped Rodney and the rest of his team blushed for his rudeness.

 

“Oh hello,” the man in the suit greeted warmly with a smile after hearing Rodney’s comment. He winced when the bruise on his cheek reminded him not to do that but it seemed that his face was frozen in a grin because it returned to the same position as before.

 

“Who are you?” John asked, his tone indicating a demand.

 

“I’m The Doctor and this is Rose,” the man answered using his hand to point to the woman standing next to him. “How’d you all get here?” he inquired curiously.

 

“The same way you did obviously,” Rodney snapped again.

 

“Rodney!” John reprimanded curtly effectively shutting his comrade up. However the man’s smile never faded.

 

“Oh I highly doubt that,” he answered simply though mysteriously.

 

“I am Teyla Emmagen, daughter of Taggan,” Teyla answered, her social skills far superior to that of her male friends. “This is Colonel Sheppard, Ronon Dex and Doctor Rodney McKay,” she introduced using her hand to motion to each separate person.

 

The girl, Rose, gave a friendly smile and a wave but remained quiet. The man studied them making them feel like they were under a microscope before replying, “Oh the Atlantis Expedition!”

 

John and his team shared a worried look. “How do you know that?”

 

“Doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t believe me,” the man dismissed with a wave of what John could see was a swollen hand. The man grimaced then pulled his hand towards his chest, holding it there as his other hand reached into a pocket worthy of Mary Poppins. He pulled out a cylindrical object with a blue sphere on top and pointed it at his wrist.

 

Blue light filled the slowly darkening cell and a high pitched whirring sound filled their ears. The object deeply intrigued Rodney who had slowly joined the rest of the team, his eyes focusing solely on the machine in the strange man’s hand.

 

“Needless to say I’ve heard a lot about you. You lot are doing wonderful things for this galaxy. Oi!”

 

The woman called Rose quickly grabbed the blue thing out of his hand and looked at it before throwing a glare to the wall outside their cell. The team didn’t bother hiding their shock as she punched the man in the arm.

 

“Ow, what was that for?!” he cried looking at her in confusion.

 

“Your wrist is broken you bloody idiot,” the girl answered sounding more concerned than angry, “and all you did was sit there and act like nothing was wrong.”

 

The team assumed she meant before they had been captured as they saw a light rouge fill his cheeks. “Weell,” he drawled out, “I never really did answer your question did I?” This comment only served to urge the girl to punch him again.

 

“Do you need a bandage?” Teyla asked pulling an ACE bandage out of her vest. The guards had only taken their weapons and anything that had seemed threatening from their vests, nothing more leaving them with their canteens of water, some medical supplies, Rodney’s LSD and a few power bars.

 

“Yes, thank you,” Rose replied. “Do you think you can set it or do you need me to?”

 

The man tenderly felt his wrist, his long fingers determining where the break was. “No need,” he informed a very surprised group, “it’s not that bad a break and honestly Rose, I don’t think it needs wrapping.”

 

Rose gave her companion a glare before gently taking his injured wrist into her hands and once again running the blue contraption over it. The whirring stopped and she raised it within easy reading distance before placing it in her pocket. She began to unwrap the brand new bandage then used her leg to support his arm, giving her open access to his hand and forearm.

 

The group watched as she expertly wrapped his injured arm with as gentle a touch as Carson.

 

“You guys do this often?” John asked noticing how easily they seemed to handle everything. It was almost the same dynamic as what he and his team had except they had double the people.

 

“Yep,” they both answered with a non-committal shrug and a smile.

 

“Which part? The dealing with injuries part of the getting captured part?” Rodney clarified as he pulled out a power bar.

 

“Both,” the man replied. “Speaking of which how are we going to get out of here? Is your ship close or confiscated?”

 

John watched with agitated envy as the man got up and began to pace the cell with something akin to excitement in his air. He snapped himself out of the trance the nervous pace put him in, shaking his head and asking, “Look, who are you?”

 

“I told you. I’m The Doctor.”

 

“Doctor of what exactly?” Rodney asked smugly, no doubt betting in his mind that he had more than the man before them.

 

“Oh this and that,” the man known as the Doctor replied airily. His attention was currently focused on the bars of their cell and the lock that bound it.

 

“How very specific,” Rodney replied. “You can’t possibly have more than one,” he continued sounding more and more condescending with every word he spoke, “it takes many years just to achieve one. I have three and you are easily younger than me.”

 

John rolled his eyes, about ready to slap his friend upside the head when the Doctor merely beamed. “Thank you! That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, though I will say that I am easily older than you young man. Now, I think I can get us out of here but my ship isn’t close so we’d need yours if it’s possible.”

 

Rodney stuttered his reply which was interrupted by John, “Ours is within running distance but not close. No more than a few miles from here.”

 

The Doctor continued his frenzied pace, “Three miles so that’s about five kilometers. That’s within running distance don’t you think Rose?”

 

Rodney hung his head in exasperation when the girl merely shrugged. “I think we’ve run further than that when we were being chased by the Werewolf.”

 

“Weell,” the Doctor drawled again, “that doesn’t really count now does it? We just ran around the house.”

 

“House? That was a mansion-“

 

“It was more a manor really.”

 

“Anyways!” John interrupted, hoping to bring the very chatty man back to the point.

 

“Right now we need to come up with a plan-“ the man cut off instantly, his attention turning from the group in the cell to the ceiling. His expression was a mixture of study and excitement when he turned back to the group.

 

“My ship just got a whole lot closer than yours.”

 

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

The Time Lord’s words rang through the empty prison. The Lanteans looked at each other in confusion but before they could ask spine chilling growls and roars traveled down to the dungeons, stealing all their attentions.

 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve heard that sound,” the Doctor commented absently, his deep brown eyes still glued on the stone ceiling.

 

“And, um, what was that sound?” Rodney asked with worry in his blue eyes.

 

“It’s a sound of victory, a chant if you will,” the Doctor explained, still keeping his eyes glued on the ceiling. The sound of several creatures moving quickly on the floor above them pounded against the stone roof and the Doctor’s thin eyebrows furrowed.

 

“What do they have to be victorious about?” John asked almost pouting.

 

“They have us, isn’t that enough?” Rodney _did_ pout.

 

“No,” Ronon answered, finally jumping into the conversation. “This race is proud and would not consider capturing a few beings from lesser races to be a victory.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, lesser?” Rodney objected offended.

 

“Your friend is right,” the Doctor replied, not listening to the physicist’s tone. “To the Gabrihaths, humans are a far lesser race. They may act and dress primitive but they consider themselves to be superior to most in the universe. I’m not sure what they have done that makes them think they are or will be victorious but I can assure you, it’s not us.”

 

Heavy footfalls stalled further conversation. Instinctively the Colonel stepped in front of his team hoping that the things, the Gabrihaths or whatever they are, would choose him to do whatever to instead of any of his friends. He struggled to keep his aura of confidence when he felt confusion creep into his spine as the Doctor not only stepped in front of the girl, Rose, but he put his body in the way of everyone in the cell.

 

“Good evening gentlemen,” he greeted warmly, “I don’t suppose my friends and I could get some water or food?”

 

The head guard stepped into the cell and swiftly backhanded the Doctor in the same place as his reddish purple bruise.  

 

“Was that really necessary?” John asked heatedly when the Doctor let out a deep groan of pain. Behind him Ronon growled deeply in his chest at the unnecessary violence.

 

Sure they didn’t know this man who had obviously already received a small beating from these beings, but that didn’t mean that they were going to stand aside and allow him to be beaten repeatedly either.

 

The guard stared at John with an expression of what they all assumed was shock on his face. He bent down to glare at the human beneath him. “How is it you speak our language?” he demanded suspiciously.

 

“That’s my fault sorry,” the Doctor butted in. This time the other side of his face took the punishment for his interference as a gigantic, partially clawed hand punched him again.

 

“You are not to speak until spoken to. Is that understood filthy human?!” the guard demanded furiously.

 

“Who are you calling human?” the Doctor questioned, affronted by the title. He grimaced as his head gave a furious pound from the blows he’d received. “And if you don’t mind I’m getting a little tired of you lot hitting me,” he added almost petulantly. “There are other ways to get what you want, you know? Asking for one. Offering an incentive, I find bananas are good for that.”

 

Another backhand silenced him, sending him to the floor of the prison. He cried out as he landed on his right side then rolled onto his back, holding onto his wrist. His face was scrunched with pain and his teeth were clenched, but when he opened his eyes there was nothing but anger in them.

 

“That’s enough,” Ronon growled menacingly at the creature which was easily two feet taller than him and twice as strong.

 

“Problems Koltar?” a cold, guttural voice asked from just outside the cell.

 

The Gabrihath straightened up immediately at the sound of the other creature’s voice and bowed its head. “No my lord Kliptock. These things were being taught the rules.”

 

“It seems as if they are doing some teaching of their own are they not?” Koltar’s chest rumbled in fury at the intended insult but wisely remained silent. Kliptock looked around the cell, a bored expression covering his face.

 

“It is no matter,” he dismissed almost regally, “bring the two skinny ones. We have need of them.”

 

John and the Doctor looked at their companions with expressions of, _Am I really that skinny?_ on their faces but kept their mouths closed.

 

Kliptock walked into the cell and grabbed the Doctor’s deformed wrist. With a swift flick of his hand, the broken bones snapped into place causing the Time Lord to scream in surprise and agony.

 

“You should be more careful with the prisoners Koltar,” the royal lectured. He reached out and grabbed the Doctor’s chin, turning his head from side to side so he could see the bruises, “ _they_ do not want them damaged until it becomes necessary.”

 

“Apologies my lord,” Koltar answered sounding chastised though John knew that he was anything but sorry. He’d seen the way the Gabrihath had enjoyed the pain he’d inflicted and it made him sick.

 

Kliptock returned his attention to his two most important prisoners. “You will follow and you will not attempt to cause trouble,” he instructed evenly, “otherwise it is your friends who will suffer the consequences.”

 

Agony coursed through the Doctor’s arm, making his fingers tingle with pins and needles but he knew he had to ignore it as long as he could. He knew the race they were going to meet and he didn’t really relish showing them any outward signs of pain. Judging by the dark look on the Colonel’s face, he knew as well.

 

Cradling his arm against his stomach, the Doctor straightened up and plastered a smile on his face. “Why didn’t you say so? Like I told your friend over there, all you had to do was ask. You should try it next time.”

 

Koltar stepped forward to give him another love slap but the royal stopped him. “No, it’s alright.” He studied the Doctor for a few moments before smiling, “I think we’re going to have fun with you.”

 

“Weell,” the Doctor answered dragging out the syllable longer than he actually needed to, “I’m not one to brag but I am great at parties. Have you ever had a banana daiquiri? I created one in seventeenth century France and I must say that it was good.”

 

Kliptock did the Gabrihath equivalent of an eye roll then turned around and started walking away. After throwing encouraging smiles to their friends both John and the Doctor followed, walking side by side.

 

Each step jolted his broken wrist and the Doctor found himself unable to stop the grimaces that kept crossing his face.

 

“So, how is it I can understand what they’re saying?” John asked casually, his hazel eyes wandering around to his surroundings. The hall they were walking down was non-descript but that didn’t stop him from trying to find something that would tell him where they’d been taken in comparison to the jumper.

 

“My ship translates all known alien languages. It even does French! Mickey had a hard time wrapping his mind around that one.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Mickey or Mickey the Idiot if you like. He was Rose’s boyfriend for a long time but they broke up a bit ago. We got stuck in a parallel universe for a little while and he decided to stay behind for his Grandmother. Good lad; he’s currently fighting off Cybermen,” the Doctor rattled.

 

John was about to ask what the heck was a Cyberman, but they were led into an oval room that stole his attention. The corners had been darkened but a bright light shone brightly illuminating a large stone circle in the middle. Chains lay limply on top of the stone but even still, the Colonel could see the dried blood that coated them; it made him cringe in revulsion.

 

“I believe that’s where we’re supposed to wait,” the Doctor piped up cheerily.

 

“Indeed it is,” Kliptock answered. He waited until both men were placed squarely in the center of the stone before he snapped his fingers and wrist cuffs snapped loudly around their arms, pulling them above their heads and holding them in place while a drone came and attached the ankle cuffs.

 

“You know, they aren’t really my style,” John quipped dryly. The Doctor smiled in appreciation of his humor but kept his laugh hidden in his chest.

 

“Colonel Sheppard,” a cold, slithering voice greeted, “we meet again.”

 

“What no kneeling?” John asked not bothering to give the interrogator a reply.

 

A Wraith Queen with long, flowing silver hair stepped out of the shadows. The bright light shimmered as it shone on the waist length mane that seemed almost weightless upon the translucent shoulders which were laid bare by her “off the shoulder” black dress and cloak.

 

The air sparkled with hostility, but both men ignored it as the Wraith focused her attention on the Doctor.

 

“New stock,” she said with a turn of her head as she eyed him curiously. The air went from hostile to suffocating as she approached, a hungry look in her eyes. The Doctor showed no reaction to her, somehow remaining impassive and stone-faced.

 

“No, dear sister, he is not stock,” another female voice cooed. A second wraith Queen stepped out of the shadows, grinning wolfishly at both John and the Doctor. Unlike the other queens, this one had ebony-black hair ending at just below her shoulders; small wisps of white streaked the long strands, making John think that she was younger than the rest. It was just as thick as the others’ but there was a certain shine to it that even those with silver hair lacked. Given her diet, she was just as thin as the other wraith Queens but instead of the black leather dresses, she wore a royal red dress, slinky and doing its job of accenting her figure quite well. Her skin was something else entirely; instead of the translucent gray of all the rest of the wraith, this one had a brown hint to her skin, almost like a constant tan, that helped compliment her red dress.  Instead of the soulless eyes all wraith had, this queen had very expressive green eyes that made her appear that much more human.

 

To his right, John heard the Doctor gasp in surprise. It sounded almost foreign to John’s ears and he wondered if the Doctor had ever made that sound in his life. When he looked over at the thin man he was shocked to see nothing but sorrow and remorse in every molecule of the man’s being. Clearly there was more to this wraith than meets the eye and the Doctor knew what it was.

 

“Oh, so you do remember me Doctor,” the second queen remarked when she noticed his reaction. “I was worried that with the change, you wouldn’t know who I am.”

 

“Well, now that we’re all acquainted,” John quipped, not liking that he was out of the loop.

 

“My apologies Colonel Sheppard,” the peculiar queen said, almost managing to sound like she meant it. “My name is Amara. I know it’s not customary for us to give our designations, but with the Doctor here I suppose it will come out sooner or later.”

 

“And, you two know each other,” John said, still trying to piece together what was going on.

 

“Once upon a time, yes.”

 

“You sound very-”

 

“-human?” the queen answered with an almost sinister smile. “That’s because I was one, a long time ago. Do you remember Doctor? You meant to drop me in the far Beltzian system. Well, you were off by a few hundred light years and instead I ended up in the Pegasus galaxy, stranded on a planet. I suppose I should thank you because at least the planet could sustain life, wild or otherwise, but there also these little spider-like bugs as well.”

 

John gave an involuntary shiver at the mention of the Iratus bug. His encounter with one had been over and done with for a couple years now but each time he thought about it, shivers of revulsion swept through his limbs.

 

The queen turned her head, one pencil-thin eyebrow raised. “I see you’ve had the ‘pleasure’ of encountering one Colonel,” she remarked, making sure to put a sarcastic note on the word ‘pleasure’. “Yes. We’d heard about that; we’d actually hoped it would have killed you off for us but no such thing happened. Instead, you managed to kill it. Consider yourself lucky. Those that are capable of dying quickly do not normally last once in the clutches of the creature but those of us that are able to survive centuries,” her lip curled in distaste, “are not so fortunate.” She swept a frail hand over her form, “This is what happens. Much like your Doctor Beckett hypothesized.”

 

“I am so sorry,” the Doctor apologized with eyes so full of sorrow it made John feel pity for him.

 

“You always are,” the queen returned, clearly not accepting his apology. “Yet, you never once thought to stop and check on me, or any of your companions do you? No, you just drop us off where you like then leave, never giving us a second thought.”

 

The Doctor lowered his gaze, unable to say that she was right. He hated to admit it but that was exactly what he did. None of his other incarnations tried to go back and check on his companions, none. He hasn’t had to worry about that yet but this version knew that, if or when he lost Rose as a companion, he would do anything to make sure he could check up on her.

 

“Ah, but this one is different, isn’t she?” the queen asked as though she could read his mind. There was so much glee in her tone that it made both John and the Doctor uneasy. “Well, I may just have to visit with her, you don’t mind do you Doctor?”

 

“Stay away from her,” the Doctor answered with enough threat in his voice John had to fight against his instincts to shy away. It baffled the Colonel to see such a drastic change take place. It was as though the previous genial and mournful man had been nothing more than a hologram and here stood the true Doctor.

 

Chains rattled against one another and the stone slab the two men stood on as the Doctor strained against his bindings. Thin and wiry though he may be, John could see that he was no wimp. The chains rattled and some rock from the ceiling came falling down the more he pulled.

 

“Oh relax,” the queen scoffed. “Did you think I’d honestly talk to her without you?”

 

“If you touch one hair on her head, I swear I’ll-”

 

“-You’ll what? Kill me? Oh Doctor, you and I both know you wouldn’t do that.”

 

 _No, but I would,_ John thought though he didn’t say it. As a principle, the pilot was against the taking of life but with the wraith he often made an exception. Wraith weren’t to be reasoned with; they couldn’t be trusted either. To them it was you-die-because-I’m-hungry and that was that. They never spared anyone and therefore the Lanteans didn’t spare them. Although, they’d never come across a wraith so human before either so with this one, he wasn’t quite sure.

 

“No, I wouldn’t kill you,” the Doctor replied in a low, coarse voice. “I’d bury you in a timeless prison, allowing you to live forever without actually existing.”

 

The queen walked up to him with no more warmth or teasing in her eyes. “I believe you already have,” she said. She didn’t give the man time to respond before she landed a backhand so hard on his face that John thought he’d heard the man’s cheekbone break.

 

After taking a minute to compose herself, the queen stepped back to allow her ‘sister’ to have access to the both of them.

 

“Now then, sister, I believe there were some tests you wanted to perform?”

 

The other, more wraith-like queen sneered at the more dominant one then hissed at the two men. She slunk forward, her form swaying slightly with her hips as she walked. One, long-nailed finger traced idly down John’s face, drawing blood as it played.

 

“I have heard you are strong enough to withstand even a queen’s questioning,” she began, her finger moving from his face down to his neck then his collar bone. “But are you strong enough to handle two?”

 

Amara stepped forward with a malicious smile in her eyes, “Let the tests begin.”

 

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

Rose stood in the cell, pacing back and forth for the umpteenth time since the Doctor and Colonel Sheppard had been escorted out. No matter how many times they were captured, the waiting part never got any easier and this time was no exception. It didn’t help that the Gabrihaths seemed particularly inclined to abuse the Doctor either; in fact, it made her worry even more.

 

At first glance she couldn’t tell if the Colonel’s companions were just as nervous as she was or not. They were a quiet bunch, with the exception of the fatter one, Doctor Rodney McKay, who kept intermittently yammering on about nothing that she understood in such a condescending manner that she wanted to smack him upside the head, all while fiddling with some sort of device in his hand that didn’t do anything (in her opinion) other than beep and hum.

 

The taller one, Ronon, was perched on the wall, leaning against it with the appearance of casual carelessness but Rose could see how taut and tense his muscles were. She guessed that he was ready to attack in an instant’s notice which was something she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of. His bright green eyes had darkened considerably in a fashion that had nothing to do with the fading light in the cell. They glared at the entrance to the cell as if they could burn through the bars with the death stare alone.

 

He had been perfectly amiable, if not a bit short, when she’d tried to engage him in conversation but Rose could tell that if his friend wasn’t brought back in the same condition he’d left in, the Gabrihaths would have a very angry tiger pouncing on them from the minute they entered.

 

The woman, Teyla, sat on the cold, damp floor with her legs crossed and a blank but serene look on her face. Her arms were stretched out, the tops of her forearms lying on top of her crisscrossed legs with the underside of her arms facing the ceiling. Her hands were lax but in a position that screamed _MEDITATION._ The calm sounds of her breathing filled the stale air and if Rose could actually relax enough to concentrate she had the feeling she would have been close to meditating right along with her.

 

Heavy, uneven footfalls announced the return of several persons, bringing Teyla out of her meditative revere and Rodney out of his nervously indifferent state. They joined Rose off to the side of the cell where they all impatiently waited for the return of their friends.

 

“How long do you think they’ll keep ‘em?” one unknown and guttural voice asked offhandedly.

 

“I dunno,” another answered it what sounded to Rose like a cockney accent. “But I don’t care either. As long as they’re occupied they leave _us_ alone. Now come on, we have to feed the rest of them.”

 

The small group looked at one another in confusion. Only three of them knew who “they” were, and had explained it to Rose, but they’d said that it was pretty unheard of to be questioned by more than just the wraith queen. Still, they were all worried that the Colonel and the Doctor weren’t back yet so they listened more, hoping to hear something that would tell them how their friends were faring.

 

“Feeding prisoners, it’s downright insulting it is,” the one with the cockney accent grumbled. They heard the sound of a metal bucket scraping against stone then a grunt as someone lifted it.

 

“You do not think they should be fed?” the guttural one countered with strain in his voice.

 

“No I do, it’s just, it’s servant work.”

 

The lock to their cell door released, flooding the room with light and fresh air. Two Gabrihath soldiers stood in front of the door with what one could only assume was an unhappy look on their faces. The first one held a bucket of water, which was deposited sloppily just inside the cell door, and the other held a massive tray of bread, cheese, and some dried meat.

 

The one carrying the pail left as quickly as he’d come, leaving only the one carrying the food. He watched all of them carefully, as though expecting to be instantly attacked, then he walked further into the room.

 

Rodney rushed forward and grabbed the food, scurrying over to his corner like a starving rat and leaving the rest of them to fend for themselves. Taking that as his cue, Ronon swiftly grabbed the vulnerable Gabrihath by the nape of his neck and swung him into the wall.

 

Much to their surprise, several other Gabrihaths appeared, seemingly out of thin air, and trained spears on each and every one of them.

 

“Ronon,” Teyla warned in a tone that suggested she hadn’t approved of him doing that in the first place. “Let him go.”

 

The big man looked around, calculating his odds of living if he didn’t. Rose saw a flicker of defiance flare in his eyes before he slowly released the creature and stepped back.

 

The Gabrihath coughed violently, trying to get air through his no doubt damaged throat.

 

“I apologize for my friend,” Teyla stated, placing herself in front of Ronon so that she could stop him if he chose to charge again.

 

“It is alright,” the soldier gruffly granted. Under the guttural quality of his voice, Rose could hear an accent that sounded an awful lot like German. How diverse were these creatures? He turned around and waved a dismissive hand at the guards who hadn’t moved a muscle since first poising to attack. “I understand you are worried for your friends and would like to return home. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have been taken in the first place but sadly I am nothing more than a soldier and do not have a say.”

 

“What’s your name?” Rose asked feeling as though they might be able to make an ally out of this creature.

 

“Kolanthel,” the man answered. His eyes traveled over to where Ronon angrily prowled, fear shining brightly within them before he faced Rose. “Kola to my friends.”

 

“I’m Rose,” she introduced, putting a hand on her chest. “This is Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney.”

 

The Gabrihath nodded at each person as their names were said but said nothing more. Rose could tell the poor guy was scared as hell but she got the feeling it wasn’t of them.

 

“Do you know what is going on?” Rose asked. Though the Lanteans had tried to explain the possibility of their capture, Rose still hadn’t quite grasped the true reason. “Why are we being held prisoner?”

 

“I told you, to be eaten!” Rodney snapped from his little corner. His two friends closed their eyes as though asking for patience but said nothing.

 

Kola frowned at the scientist’s explanation, his eyes now holding nothing but pity and sadness.

 

“That may be the eventual plan, yes,” he granted thickly. “But I have been told that your friends are being put through some tests first.”

 

“Tests? What kinds of tests?” Rose asked, immediately alarmed. Something told her it wasn’t like the math tests she took in school.

 

“They say that your Colonel Sheppard is strong of mind,” Kola answered conspiratorially, “the Queens want to see how strong he is.”

 

With that he exited as quickly as his feet could take him, shutting the door behind him and once again leaving the group to worry in darkness.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Amara stepped back from her test subject with frustration on her face. She and her sister had been throwing everything they’ve got at him and yet it seemed to not be making any difference. While her sister took her frustration out on said test subject, Amara crossed her arms over her chest and thought. She laughed hard when she figured it out. Having been surprised by the laughing, her sister stopped her assault and watched as Amara started walking over to the Doctor.

 

“Of course! How stupid could I be?” she asked no one in particular. She rounded on the Doctor with laughter and fury in her eyes. “Doctor, have you been protecting him?”

 

The Doctor, she was pleased to see, was bleeding freely from a cut above his right eyebrow and could barely see out of the same eye. The slight trickling sound of blood landing on the stone floor told her that his straining against the cuffs had torn the beautiful skin around his wrists.

 

Even still, the look he gave her with his remaining eye held nothing but pure innocence.

 

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied, sounding a bit strained.

 

She smacked him twice; once just to wipe the look off his face and another for daring to lie to her. It appeased her somewhat to hear him groan in pain but it wasn’t enough. She nodded to the drone behind the Time Lord and waited until he pulled out his stun gun. Of course, she wasn’t about to tell her guests that the stunning mechanism had been removed and been replaced by something else infinitely more damaging; that was something they were going to figure out soon enough.

 

“Now, I’ll ask you again Doctor and this time I’d advise you not to lie to me. Have you been shielding him?”

 

The whir of the drone’s weapon straightened the Doctor’s spine quicker than anything else in the universe or two could. Still, he looked at her with all the seriousness he had, which she had to admit was a lot.

 

“Well,” he said, dragging the word out, “it’s a bit hard to when I’ve been chained up over here, now isn’t it?”

 

With the nod of her head, the drone fired his weapon, aiming at the inside of the Time Lord’s left knee. The blast hit directly on target, cleanly slicing through the first few inches of the alien’s leg.

 

The Doctor cried out in excruciating pain, collapsing as far to the ground as his bound hands would allow.

 

“What the hell was that for!” the human raged at her, his green eyes alight with fury but cold with hatred. “He gave you your answer-”

 

“-And he was lying!” Amara snarled at him, moving so that she was in the thing’s face.

 

The human’s face was almost as badly beaten as the Doctor’s. It still had the use of both its eyes but its lip was dribbling with blood and was as fat as a worm or two. Deep purple bruising marred its admittedly handsome face with one deep cut over one of the deeper bruises just on his cheek. From what she could tell her sister had mainly stuck to beating its face which was a shame since Amara guessed it had such a nice torso that could use some marking.

 

“That was no stunning blast,” the Doctor growled though whether it was from pain or anger, Amara didn’t know and nor did she care.

 

“Did you like it?” Amara asked with a cruel but excited smile. “I’ve taught my colony a thing or two about technology. They now have two different guns two choose from. One does the normal paralyzes-the-nerves-for-later-feeding but this one is a laser blast for those creatures who are not worthy of being food; among other things.”

 

She paused, waiting for him to answer the question that was so obviously on the tip of his tongue. _What happened to you?_

It was a question she asked herself from time to time but she never gave it much thought because the answer was simple, the Doctor had happened to her. He’d led her to believe that he cared about her, that they were partners. Then one day he decided that their journey together was over and just drops her off on some random planet without making sure it was even _her_ planet and leaves? No! That was not in the brochure.

 

When she decided that he was going to remain silent, she continued, “Now, I’m going to give you one last chance to answer me truthfully. Oh, and Doctor? If you lie to me again, this time the laser goes through one of your hearts, possibly both. Have you been shielding him?”

 

“Oh, you meant psychically? Well, yeah of course. Although, I must say he’s pretty brilliant at it on his own, isn’t he?”

 

Amara walked away with a frustrated hiss. She had to admit that she should have been able to tell that the Doctor was helping out much sooner than she had.

 

When she and her sister, Taor, had first begun to test the human, there was a military taste to his defenses that was both bitter and strong. The more they threw at him, the more bitter it became until both of their mouths tasted of bile from trying.

 

They’d taken a break to draw all they had then tried again, doing their best to force information from him, any information. This time the resistance tasted almost like cinnamon but with enough bitterness and military in there so that they didn’t notice it, at first.

 

The next three times they tried, they got the same taste and that was what had tipped Amara off. Underneath the spice, bile, and strength, she could taste age and decay; something so old that there was no longer any vivacity in it.

 

For all his youth, the Doctor was not a young being. He had lived for so long and seen so much that all the childlike wonder had all been sucked right out of him. Amara knew he always acted excited and more often than not had the attention span of a four year old these days but when it came to his soul, his strength and his will, he was nothing but a shriveled up old man, hardened by war and grief.

 

“Take them away and do not worry about their wounds,” she commanded one of the drones.

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” the human objected instantly on the Doctor’s behalf.

 

“I assure you _Colonel Sheppard_ that I kid you not. The Doctor will be fine as will you.”

 

She strode out of the hall before the thing could argue any more. Though she acted the part of the wraith well, Amara knew that, should she spend too much time around humans, her own human side would come out and that was something she could not allow. She had ambitions and she wouldn’t achieve them by being human.

 

She thought, mournfully, of her time with the Doctor and how little she’d been able to repay him for the pain he’d caused her. With a sigh she admitted there was time enough for that. For now, she needed rest.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

“What did he mean the Queens want to see how strong Sheppard is?” Rodney ranted for the seventieth time since the door had been closed. “How are they going to go about testing that theory? By playing a bunch of voodoo mind games on him? They should have hired Carson for that, he’s good with the voodoo magic. And why are there two queens working together? Aren’t they normally territorial?”

 

“Rodney, please,” Teyla pleaded for the sixty-ninth time. Her right hand went to her head as though in an effort to massage away a headache and Rose found herself sympathizing with the woman.

 

“And what do they need the other guy for huh? I mean, do they even know who he is because I don’t even know so how could they know. Unless they’ve run into him before and wouldn’t that just be perfect.”

 

“Oi!” Rose snapped, unable to take much more of his chatter. While the Doctor’s rambling was usually thirty times worse, it was always about nonsense or random facts about the universe; either way, it was always positive. But this constant droning about every negative thing he could think of was beginning to wear on her barely-existent nerves.

 

“If you haven’t figured out the answer by now, I highly doubt you’re going to. So until the Doctor and your friend comes back, put a lid on it will you?”

 

“No I will not ‘put a lid on it’,” Rodney retorted furiously. “I am a genius-”

 

“-Great, so if we need your help with something, we’ll know who to ask. However, being a genius isn’t going to help you divine the truth about what’s going on now will it?”

 

“Um, well, no,” Rodney mumbled, appearing stunned by her manner more than anything else.

 

“Okay then. Besides, your friend will pass the test.”

 

“And how can you possibly know that?” the scientist snapped.

 

“Because the Doctor has had psychic training. He’s able to defend his mind from intruders or something like that and I know from experience that he can protect others,” Rose answered. She didn’t think she’d explained that all too well but it seemed to have worked for silence had finally descended upon the cell shortly afterwards.

 

“Someone’s coming,” Ronon suddenly announced after five minutes’ silence. The group, suddenly alert, jumped to its feet as one and stared at the door.

 

“Who is it? Is it Sheppard? One of those creature things?” Rodney rambled though he must have known that no one could answer his question but time.

 

They stood as one, silently preparing for what was about to come through the door and hoping that it would be their friends in one piece.

 

The sounds of heavy footsteps pounding on the stone floor echoed throughout the hall, the echo dying the closer they came. It felt as though everyone held their breath when the footsteps stopped just outside their door and they all seemed to hold it as they waited for said door to open.

 

Bright light burst into the cell as whoever it was decided to enter.

 

“Come with me,” Kola’s thickly accented voice commanded. He threw something at Ronon and Teyla then quickly scurried off down the hall.

 

The small group of four shared a look of curiosity with one another then stared at the unguarded and open door. Without waiting for further instructions, they began to run.

 

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

Rose and the others caught up quickly with Kola. Their footsteps were quiet upon the stone as they crept along the hallway, keeping to the shadows so as to not be discovered. Being the one with the best relationship with the Gabrihath, Rose stayed in the lead but she felt Ronon’s body heat directly behind her.

 

“Kola, where are we going?” she whispered into the bigger being’s shoulder since that was all she could reach.

 

“Your ship,” he answered back as they ducked out of the way of wraith drones.

 

“Which ship, our ship or their ship?” Rodney asked immediately.

 

The Gabrihath frowned. “I was not aware there were two different ones. It is the blue one.”

 

“Ours,” Rose answered, relief leaking out of every note in her voice.

 

“What about our friends?” Teyla asked just as they had started moving again.

 

“They are on their way as we speak,” Kola replied. “Our leader, Kliptock is retrieving them himself so the drones won’t notice that you are missing.”

 

“Why are you helping us?” Ronon’s gruff voice asked over Rose’s head, startling her for a minute.

 

The group crossed an open room and entered into another dark hallway, narrowly avoiding being discovered by the wraith. They hid in a corner, huddled together like a group of scared mice, until the wraith passed then started moving again.

 

“We do not help the spirits willingly,” Kola growled through bared teeth. “We are slaves. We are not suitable stock for feeding so we are forced to serve them instead, bringing them humans whenever we find them.”

 

“What makes you think we can help you?” Rodney interjected.

 

“Our histories tell of a being that travels in a blue box. He is wise and helps those in need. As much as it pains us to admit it, we are in need.” A growl rumbled in the Gabrihath’s chest, indicating what he thought of having to ask for help. “We are just saddened that we could not free you before your friends have been damaged.”

 

“Damaged?!” Rodney and Rose cried as one. The physicist paled at what implications the word could have and Rose had to agree with him, though she had a stronger stomach.

 

“You mean they were injured,” Teyla gently corrected, her tone giving a small warning to the panic Kola might cause if he used the wrong words.

 

“Yes,” the Gabrihath answered after looking at both Rose and Rodney. “The human will be fine but the Time Lord, I fear, is hurt quite badly.”

 

“Time Lord. Who would be pretentious enough to name themselves that?”

 

“The Doctor,” Rose answered.

 

Kola nodded his head. “It is his species, not his name.”

 

“His species?” Ronon quietly asked.

 

Ronon’s question rang through the air as the group came upon an empty room with a big blue box inside it. The room itself was small but it looked even smaller with the TARDIS inside it. She pulsed welcomingly as they entered and Rose found herself smiling under its soft glow.

 

“Perhaps now is not the time for questions,” Kliptock, the apparent leader of the Gabrihaths, hinted with what one could only assume was a smile. He slowly descended out of the TARDIS and came to stand next to Kola.

 

“Where is the Doctor?” Rose asked, noticing where the Gabrihath had just exited. It was a dumb question, given that he had just been in the TARDIS but she felt like she needed to ask it. Her nerves were strung out from the events since she’d arrived and knowing that the Doctor was safe and sound.

 

“He is inside with Colonel Sheppard, resting, as much as we could make him.” Rose smiled knowing just how difficult it was keeping the Doctor still even when injured. “You and the fat one are welcome to go inside and see your friends; I have a need to visit with your warriors.”

 

“I-what-I’m not fat,” Rodney blubbered. He looked down at his stomach then back up at the leader. “I’ll have you know I am within a healthy weight.”

 

“That’s not what Beckett says,” Ronon replied with a teasing smile.

 

Rose watched as Rodney opened his mouth to retort. She appreciated that they could joke while in the midst of an escape plan; she also knew the Doctor would appreciate it as well. He liked when people kept a sense of humor no matter the situation and it was obvious that this group _could_ do that.

 

“I think it may be best to wait for further comment so that we may escape as planned, would it not?” Teyla swiftly interrupted with a pointed look at her friends.

 

Rodney closed his mouth, though it was obvious he was still annoyed; Ronon merely beamed down at the man in triumph. The physicist turned on his heel and stormed into the ship, mumbling about stupid dogs and their miniscule brains. Rose offered the two Gabrihaths an embarrassed smile, knowing they’d heard him, and quickly followed.

 

It had taken a good five minutes for the fact that the TARDIS was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. His rambling slowly tapered off and stared open-mouthed at his surroundings. He stuttered a bit with no intelligible words coming out then stopped.

 

“It’s-it’s-”

 

“Yeah, I know,” she replied comfortingly not wanting to hear him say the same words that she had said. She knew from the many stories the Doctor has told that many others had said the same exact words as hers; she hated that she hadn’t been original in her reaction but it appeared that no one else was either.

 

“But, how is this possible? This goes against the basic laws of physics,” the man babbled still staring around at everything.

 

“Oh come on Rodney, I’m sure the Ancients have something similar,” the voice of Colonel Sheppard intoned from the other side of the room. Rose couldn’t stop herself from staring at the man as he walked out from the hallway and into the console room. Part of the reason she was staring was because she found him attractive; not as attractive as the Doctor but then again, comparing any human to him wasn’t fair. But the other reason for her staring was due to the bruises on his face and his split lip.

 

“Well, yes, I’m sure they have but – what the hell happened to you?” Rodney babbled. At the beginning his tone was condescending but it soon changed to horror when he actually took a good look at the Colonel.

 

“Just a little meeting with a couple of wraith Queens,” the Colonel quipped with a quirk of a smile on his face. He nodded his head in the direction behind him, “The Doctor’s worse off than I am; though with the way he’s flying around this place you wouldn’t know it.”

 

Rose chuckled, “That’s the Doctor. It’s always hard to keep him still.”

 

“Oi! I think I represent that remark,” the Doctor’s annoyed voice replied. He slowly limped into the console room and began pressing buttons and flipping levers, probably hoping to distract them from his injury.

 

Rose knew that it took a lot to make the Time Lord acknowledge pain like he was and it hurt her to see the limp. She winced when she saw the bruising on the right side of his face and the swelling of his eye; both looked painful and he no doubt could use some ice but she knew he wouldn’t openly admit any of it so she kept her mothering to herself.

 

The Doctor waited until Ronon and Teyla had joined the group before he began activating the TARDIS and jabbering, “So! Where to next? Well, I suppose that’s obvious isn’t it? Atlantis is next, of course; got to return these lovely people to their city then attempt to free the Gabrihath’s from the wraith.”

 

“Should we not alert Doctor Weir that we are coming?” Teyla inquired with her eyes still focused on the size of the room.

 

“It doesn’t really matter since we won’t be able to get through the Stargate, now will we?” Rodney returned sardonically.

 

“Oh that won’t be a problem at all,” the Doctor replied earning four confused looks from the Atlanteans. “Oh! And do yourselves a favor and treat her with respect,” he added when he noticed that the physicist was beginning to tap and prod the TARDIS. All of the Atlanteans gave him a look that said they thought he was crazy but they didn’t say it out loud.

 

Wheezing filled the air as the cylinders in the middle of the console started to thrum up and down. Rumbling filled the air making Rose grab a hold of the closest guard rail and cling until the TARDIS had landed. Briefly she looked over at the Doctor then rolled her eyes when she saw that he was trying not to look like he was in pain from all the rough handling.

 

The TARDIS jolted, tossing all the occupants to the floor then remained still. The Doctor, Rodney, and Rose cried out as they hit the ground, hard, while Colonel Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla didn’t make a sound.

 

“What the hell was that?!” Rodney exclaimed while rubbing his arm where it had smacked into the metal bars of the railing. “Don’t you know how to fly this thing?”

 

A rumble echoed through the TARDIS, tossing Rodney back onto the ground while a freezing breath of cold air descended upon him.

 

“I don’t think she appreciated your accusing comments Rodney,” John informed with a nasally voice. Ronon, Teyla, and John had all paid attention to the Doctor when he’d instructed them to be nice to and with the ship and therefore still remained comfortably standing while Rodney had begun to shiver, almost violently, on the grated floor. “I think she wants you to apologize.”

 

“Apologize?! I’m not apologizing to it. It’s a machine!” At his latest comment a growl sounded throughout the ship, quickly making Rodney cower where he lay and mutter, “I’m sorry okay? Are you happy now?”

 

Rose stood leaning against the console, giggling when the TARDIS equivalent of a self-satisfied head nod echoed through everyone’s minds as Rodney got off the floor with a deep, unhappy scowl upon his face. Next to her the Doctor stood with his arms over his chest and a smile on his face. Neither she nor the Doctor made a comment since they knew the TARDIS had made her point for them.

 

“What is that thing?” a woman’s curiously wary voice could be heard outside the ship, drawing everyone’s attention to the fact that they weren’t alone. “Someone call Radek and keep your eye on it for strange activity.”

 

John took that opportunity to walk to the doors, opened them and poked his head out. With an arrogant looking smirk upon his face he asked, “Is this strange enough or would you like more?”

 

As if taking his cue, Ronon, Teyla, Rodney, Rose, and the Doctor all poked their heads out, lining up like they were on a theater stage peeking out from behind a curtain.

 

“Hello,” the Doctor greeted with a wave and a broad smile as shocked silence descended upon the colossal room.

 

**TBC**

 


	5. Chapter 5

Dr. Elizabeth Weir sat in the mess hall staring at the beautiful meal before her, her mouth watering with anticipation of the wonderful blend of savory spices and tender taste’s it was about to endure. The first joyous bite of the medium rare ribeye steak almost melted in her mouth and her blue eyes closed in an effort to slowly savor the taste. Oh this was heaven!

 

“Doctor Weir to the Control Room,” her earpiece chirped with the voice of Dr. Radek Zalenka. His thick Czech accent rolled off his tongue and permeated her ear drums in a comforting sort of way. She sighed; it wouldn’t be a day in Atlantis without her dinner being interrupted.

 

“I’m on my way,” she announced into the radio, hesitating only momentarily before grabbing her tray of food and taking it with her.

 

Colonel Sheppard and his team had been missing for well over a day. Since SGA1 wasn’t known for keeping up to date with their check-ins she hadn’t originally begun to worry until twelve hours after their missed check-in time. Thankfully the days on PX3-525 are much longer than the standard Atlantis days so even though it was well after midnight by the time she’d managed to round a team together, it was only mid-afternoon on the planet.

 

Originally she hadn’t planned on sending a team after them until the morning but Major Lorne had argued that the men really didn’t mind since they were awake and more than eager to get off-world and they were concerned about their CO and company. So, she’d reluctantly allowed them to check things out.

 

She’d waited up until three am when they’d finally returned with forlorn faces and had told her that there had been obvious signs of a struggle and capture. Their findings puzzled those on Atlantis because they hadn’t realized that the planet was inhabited but it was more than apparent to Major Lorne and his men that it was.

 

The control room came into view and the most curious sight greeted her, almost succeeding in making her drop her tray. A big, blue, 1950’s Police Call box stood off to the right of the gate, whirring and wheezing into existence, slowly materializing as the seconds passed. She handed off her tray to Chuck who simply took it up to her office for later then came back into the gateroom and watched as she stared openly at the box in confusion.

 

“What is that thing?” she’d asked the room, the curiously wary commanding tone filling the echoing silence of the open room. She looked around the room, waiting for Radek to come stand beside her with some sort of explanation but upon closer inspection, she noticed that he was nowhere to be found. Sounds could be heard from inside the box but she couldn’t fully make anything out. “Someone call Radek and keep your eye on it for strange activity.”

 

One of the doors to the box opened and a familiar head full of spiky, chestnut brown hair with green eyes in its sockets poked out and placed a well known arrogant smirk then asked, “Is this strange enough or would you like more?”

 

Three more familiar faces poked out behind John’s followed by two that were complete strangers to her and Elizabeth couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping open at the sight before her. They looked like a comedy act being presented in a Marx Brothers moment and had she not been so shocked, Elizabeth probably would have burst out laughing but her Military Commander had a point – it was strange to see SGA1 plus two popping out of the big blue box; a big blue box that happened to be sitting in the middle of the control room after having just suddenly appeared.

 

The unknown man raised a hand and said, “Hello,” further driving the confusion as his words filled the silence of the room with a British accent – not that they haven’t heard that around here but it wasn’t exactly the norm either since their most recent resident Brit had been killed.

 

Elizabeth stood in stunned silence for another five minutes before her brain finally caught up with the situation. “What are you doing in there?” she finally asked, addressing her Military Commander and coming further into the gateroom so that she stood thirty feet in front of the box.

 

“It’s a long story,” John answered, walking out of the TARDIS and coming to stand in front of his boss and friend. “Where’s Lorne?”

 

“Eating dinner I think, why?”

 

“We need to go back and rescue some people, but I want his team with us when we go,” he answered. She noticed Rodney lift his eyebrows in surprise when the pilot mentioned people but he didn’t correct him. John immediately started walking towards the mess hall when he was stopped by a strong yet dainty hand on his arm.

 

“Hold on just a minute,” Elizabeth instructed using her best ‘I’m in charge’ voice. “What happened on the planet? And who are your newest additions?”

 

“Sorry, I’m the Doctor and this is my companion Rose,” the cinnamon haired man introduced. Elizabeth couldn’t stop her brows from furrowing when she noticed that the man was limping, almost heavily at that. He smiled kindly at her show of sympathy, but he didn’t comment on his limp either.

 

Elizabeth took the proposed hand, noting that it was bruised and swollen, and gently shook it before turning her attention back to John, “Conference room, all of you, now.”

 

And with that she walked up the stairs and turned left on the top landing, heading in the direction of the conference room. When she got there however, instead opening automatically, the doors remained closed and the lights in the control room began flickering off and on.

 

SGA1 stopped on the stairs and looked warily around the control room but John began laughing as the sound of two teenagers giggling filled his mind. _“What are you two doing down there?”_ he asked the city.

 

 ** _“Girl talk Colonel,”_** the TARDIS informed him with a smile in her tone.

 

 _“Oi!”_ he heard the Doctor’s voice mentally object.

 

He ignored the man’s seeming worried indignance and laughed again, the smile brightening his eyes and accentuating his handsome features. _“Well I don’t mean to interrupt you wonderful ladies but, Atlantis could you open the doors to the conference room so we can begin to discuss how we’re going to rescue the Gabrihath?”_

_“Not that I’m not thankful Colonel, but I’ll be alright without your help,”_ the Doctor replied before Atlantis had a chance to.

 

John turned around to face the man, noticing with envy how easily he seemed to be able to climb the stairs with his injured leg. The pilot had sprained his knee pretty good about six months back and he hadn’t even been able to happily jog up the staircase until three months ago. He knew the Doctor’s injury was just as bad as the sprain had been yet he was able to act like it was nothing.

 

 _“Look,”_ he mentally said, _“If it wasn’t for those creatures, we would still be stuck on the planet having only God knows what done to us. I am not going to let you and your companion go in on your own and try to free them. Not when I can help.”_

**_“My Thief, let them help,”_** the TARDIS softly intoned. The title threw John off guard and he looked around the room in confusion. It wasn’t until he heard the Doctor sigh that he figured out the sentient ship was talking _to_ the Doctor.

 

 _“I can’t,”_ the Doctor objected with such forlorn in his voice that John would have thought he was asking the man to take full responsibility for the world.

**_“Doctor,”_** Atlantis gently began, **_“I understand your reluctance, I truly do, but believe me when I say that these humans can handle themselves in a situation and that they will go in with or without you.”_**

****

“John?” Elizabeth asked, looking at him in confusion as to why the doors still hadn’t opened.

 

“I’m workin’ on it,” he assured, holding out his hand to his boss and friend. He turned back to the mental conversation that was going on.

 

The Doctor returned his stare, cold, brown eyes boring into his soul as deep as they could get. A feeling of unease that he wasn’t used to feeling swept over him under the weight of the stare. It took all his restraint not to fidget, holding the gaze with an even one of his own.

 

 _“Fine,”_ the Doctor relented, _“but we work on this together. No one is above the other. Got it?”_

_“Great,”_ John replied with a smile in his mental voice, _“Now, Atlantis could you please open the doors?”_

The doors to the conference room hissed open, letting a breeze brush passed them and ruffling their hair.

****

_“Thanks,”_ he said, absently patting the closest wall of the city. He’d never done that before and he honestly didn’t know why he’d done it now but the near groan that echoed throughout his mind told him he should try doing that more to show the city just how much she’s appreciated.

 

Once he was done chatting with the two sentient ships and the telepathic being, John looked at his friends to find them staring at him with curious expressions on their faces, patiently waiting for him to finish so he could offer an explanation.

 

He ignored their looks and sat down in his usual chair to wait for the other members of the group to file in, activating his comm. and saying, “Major Lorne report to the conference room ASAP.”

 

“Yessir,” came the immediate, military reply.

 

Rose and the Doctor hesitantly walked into the room, pausing by the door before walking fully into the room and standing off to the side. John having seen their reluctance waved a hand in their direction while saying, “Come on in and have a seat.” He turned his head to look behind him, thankful that the city had provided refreshments. “There’s coffee and some sandwiches, and oh look there’s also fresh tea made. I think that’s specifically for you.”

 

While his offer for them to sit was mainly strategic, it was also because a sympathetic part of him didn’t want the injured Doctor to stand much longer than he had to.

 

“John, are you sure they should be included in this?” Elizabeth asked, offering an apologetic glance in the guest’s way.

 

“It was part of the agreement,” John answered without question or pause.

 

“There’s an agreement?” Elizabeth countered with an eyebrow raise. “I wasn’t aware of that.”

 

“It was made in the hall,” the Doctor added, sitting down in between Ronon and Teyla, “while we were waiting for the lovely Atlantis to open the doors for us.”

 

“And, who is it we are going to go rescue?”

 

“They are called the Gabrihath. They were once a neutral race but the years of living in a beautiful, if somewhat barren land has made them prone to violence. It’s not their fault really; when you’ve been forced to make a living out of nothing, it’s almost natural to become hardened in the process.”

 

“If they are such a violent race, then why are we helping them?” Elizabeth countered, leaning forward onto the table.

 

John saw something flash in the Doctor’s eyes, but though his voice lost its geniality, it wasn’t anywhere near the threatening tone he was sure the man could give.

 

“Because they are being enslaved by the wraith and because it was upon my word that I could help free them that they freed us,” the Doctor replied in an almost dangerously quiet voice.

 

“I see,” Elizabeth replied, doing very well at hiding how uncomfortable she felt. The atmosphere in the room had changed and they all felt it. It had gone from friendly and welcoming to cold and challenging. “Well, I suppose we should find out what we can do to help them then, shouldn’t we?”

 

“We should wait for Lorne first,” John answered, noticing that his 2IC hadn’t arrived yet.

 

“Here!” Lorne called as he hurried into the conference room and sat down. “Uh sir, why is there a blue Police call box in the middle of the gateroom?”

 

“Yes, how did you all managed to arrive in the middle of the gateroom in a big, blue box?” Elizabeth asked, leaning forward and placing her folded hands on the curved table.

 

The small group looked at one another, silently volunteering somebody for the job of explaining all of what had happened. Obviously, the person from the Doctor’s group of two would be the Doctor himself but it seemed that the person from the Atlantis side would be John.

 

“Okay,” the pilot said in a sigh, “everyone comfortable? It’s going to be a long story.”

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Rose stood on the balcony just outside the control room overlooking the crystal blue ocean, watching trance-like as it lapped against the star edges of the city. Fading sunlight bathed the steel and concrete and the warm sea wind whipped around her face, tangling with her hair before brushing it off her face.

 

The debrief with the Doctor, Colonel Sheppard, Dr. Weir, Major Lorne, Ronon, Teyla, and Dr. Rodney McKay had been interesting and informative both for her and those that she’d experienced everything with. Between the six of them they had managed to explain in detail what all had befallen them on the planet. It had taken quite a bit of time to get through everything and answer Dr. Weir and Major Lorne’s questions and by the time they had finished the Doctor had scampered off to the TARDIS, obviously desperate to be alone, and she had come out here to just be.

 

The swishing of the balcony doors sounded from behind her and she jumped out of her skin when someone cleared his throat, probably in an attempt not to startle her. She turned around to find a man of medium height and build with sparkling blue eyes and an attractively long face staring at her kindly, apology written in his posture.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized in a thick Scottish accent, “I’m Doctor Carson Beckett, Doctor Weir asked me to escort you and your companion to the infirmary to make sure you both are alright.”

 

“I’m fine,” Rose informed, her brows wrinkling in confusion. She didn’t have any bruises on her, though there were some dirt spots that could possibly be mistaken for a bruise, so she didn’t understand why the kind man was inferring that she needed to be examined.

 

“I’m afraid it’s a standard protocol here. You never know what you’re going to come back with.” Carson’s eyes were soft and apologetic despite the stiff smile that remained on his face. Rose could tell that he was going to do what was expected of him even if he didn’t think it was necessary so she let it go.

 

“I’m Rose,” she introduced even though she suspected he already knew. Dr. Beckett gave a nod of hello and stepped back, waving his arm across his body in invitation for her to join and proceed before him back inside the city.

 

They passed by the view of the TARDIS and Rose couldn’t help but give a longing glance down at the ship. Like the Doctor, she had wanted to escape within the safety of the ship but she’d been respectful of his desire to solitude and had remained in Atlantis.

 

“She’s a beautiful ship,” Carson spoke as they stared down at the TARDIS. Rose gave him a sharp, inquisitive look making him smile. “Atlantis told me about her. She’s quite excited to have her here; it’s been a long time since she’s had someone who knew how she felt around. They’ve been gabbing and sharing stories ever since you arrived.”

 

“How do you know that?” Rose asked in wonder. She’d long learned not to judge a book by its cover but these Lanteans as they call themselves never fail to surprise her.

 

“Oh I can hear them. Mostly Atlantis since my connection with her is stronger but it’s been constant chatter in the back of my mind for hours.” He grimaced and brought a hand his head, giving it a good rub before lowering it again. “It’s given me a wee bit of a headache to say the least.”

 

Rose had a caring heart and right now it made her want to reach out a hand and rub the doctor’s back in an attempt to soothe the pain in his head but since the man was still very much a stranger to her she remained where she was. “The Doctor has troubles with that when there’s a lot of telepathic chatter going on; I suspect that’s part of the reason why he escaped back into the TARDIS as soon as he could without being too rude. He usually shuts it out before he ends up with a migraine but sometimes it doesn’t work.”

 

She’d expected him to make some form of comment about asking the Doctor to teach him the little trick which is why she was completely thrown off when his face hardened into a look of determined annoyance.

 

“Oh, did he?” he asked as he quickly made his way down the stairs and over to the TARDIS.

 

Again, Rose had expected something to happen completely opposite to what did happen. She’d expected the ship to ban the Scottish doctor from entering but to her complete surprise, and the Doctor’s complete annoyance apparently, she allowed the man unquestioning access.

 

“Oi!” the Doctor objected when Carson stormed into the control room. “What’d you let him in for ol’ girl?”

 

“Because you actually are injured and should be seen to by a doctor,” the Scot returned almost angrily. There was a weary annoyance behind his voice that Rose knew must have come from years of dealing with the Colonel and Ronon when they were injured; she didn’t doubt that the two men were just as stubborn as her friend was.

 

“What? This?” the Doctor pointed to the blood soaked inseam of his left pant leg, “It’s nothing. A bit of sleep and I’ll be as good as new. Well, new enough to rescue the Gabrihath at least, I mean I suppose it’ll take a bit of time for the bit of muscle that was destroyed to grow fully back, won’t it?”

 

Rose giggled when she saw the perplexed look on Carson’s face but she soon stifled it when he flashed a look her way. The confusion was still there but this look was more one of confirmation. She shrugged, letting the man know that the Doctor did this all the time and said nothing more. She had a feeling that the doctor would never leave the TARDIS if he learned what medical supplies the ship held.

 

“Be that as it may, you are still injured and you will not be going on the mission until I say you can,” Carson replied.

 

The Doctor gave him an almost patronizing look, “Oh really? And how are you going to stop me from taking my ship there without all of you?”

 

“You wouldn’t dare!” Rose replied, insulted that he’d thought of leaving without her. She looked over at Carson but instead of seeing indignation on his face, he had a smile in his eyes that didn’t bode well for the Doctor.

 

“Because,” Carson replied, stepping aside to allow the Doctor room to leave as though he knew he’d won, “the TARDIS won’t let you.”

 

“What?” the Doctor asked, confused. “How would you know that? Ol’ girl, are you talking to this man?”

 

Silence filled the console room as the Doctor conversed with his TARDIS. Rose looked at Carson, inquiring how he’d been able to make that claim but he didn’t answer her; his focus was solely on his stubborn patient. He winced a few times while the silent conversation took place, reminding Rose of his headache. She wanted to ask the TARDIS and the Doctor to finish quickly in deference to the Scot’s head, but she had a feeling that he would just brush everything under the rug if it was mentioned so she kept her mouth shut.

 

When the Doctor visibly deflated, Rose knew Carson had won.

 

“You lot are such mother hens, do you know that?” he griped. Then he pointed to the ceiling, appearing to talk to no one in particular, “And you are becoming just as bad as them! I think I need to get you away from this city before you get ideas of grandeur in your head.”

 

The TARDIS rumbled in an angry dare and the Doctor flitted his hand around, wincing when he remembered that it was his injured hand, “Yes, alright, I’m going.” He murmured, “Traitor,” under his breath, making the TARDIS bump him around, forcing him to slam into the controls. “Oi!”

 

“I think it might be best to leave her alone,” Carson advised while beginning to herd the Doctor out the door without touching him. His blue eyes focused on the injured left leg, apparently silently determining whether or not he should allow the Doctor to walk on it because when he looked back up, he opened his mouth to speak, “I suppose that if I suggest you wait for a wheelchair, you wouldn’t take it?”

 

“You’re very astute aren’t you?” the Doctor quipped more harshly than was normal.

 

“Being rude again?” Rose interjected, hoping to remind her friend that he actually did have manners and that he should use them. Brown eyes snapped to meet hers and she tried to convey her meaning through the gaze.

 

“Right,” the Doctor said as they started walking through the wondrous halls of Atlantis. “Sorry about that, I tend to get a bit snippy after long days.”

 

“He does,” Rose assured, “you should see him after a day at my mum’s; he’s a downright bear then.”

 

“Well,” the Doctor answered, dragging out the word, “with your mother who can blame me eh? Your mother is worse than the mothers on Vassilion and that’s saying something considering they _are_ bears.”

 

Rose slapped him upside the head for his jab at her mum but he, and Carson, only laughed.

 

They arrived in the infirmary where Teyla, Ronon, and Colonel Sheppard were currently sitting around, waiting patiently for their exams. Rodney had just left and now Teyla was having her go with a female doctor.

 

“Ah Colonel and Ronon, I should have known you two would be stalling,” Carson commented knowingly.

 

“We aren’t stalling Doc, we’re being gentleman,” the Colonel replied, using his hand to point at Teyla and Rodney’s retreating form, “We had to let the women go first.”

 

“I heard that Colonel!” Rodney’s voice called from down the hall. “Do you like your hot water?”

 

“I was talking about Rose!” John argued rather unconvincingly.

 

When no reply came, Carson sighed, “Yes, well then come on up you both get. One on each bed. Marie, Anne, could you start the post-mission check ups for the Colonel and Ronon while I get Ms. Tyler and her friend settled?”

 

“Of course doctor,” the two nurse’s assistants responded immediately.

 

Rose giggled at the scowls the Scot was currently receiving from the two men but ducked her head when the both of them turned their looks on her, a smile still playing upon her face.

 

“This isn’t necessary, really,” the Doctor tried arguing as Carson pointed to two other exam beds.

 

“Necessary or not, I’m doin’ it,” Carson retorted. “Now, is there anythin’ I need to know about your physiology?”

 

“Yes, but I’m sure you’ll figure out what it is while you’re completing your exam,” the Doctor replied unhelpfully.

 

Apparently used to the abrupt manner in which he was being treated, Carson merely nodded, “Alright then. Are you allergic to any medications?”

 

“All that come from Earth. The TARDIS has a set that is Time Lord friendly.”

 

Carson’s eyebrows rose as this statement but he didn’t inquire. Instead he tossed a standard hospital gown at the Doctor and instructed him to change into it so he could get scanned. Once the Time Lord was behind the curtain, Carson turned his attention to Rose.

 

While Carson got her settled, Rose kept noticing that the winces that had once been occasional were now happening frequently reminding her of the doctor’s headache from the two sentient ships chatting away.

 

 _“TARDIS,”_ she called mentally, earning a sharp look from Dr. Beckett, Colonel Sheppard, and the Doctor.

 

 ** _“Yes Rose,”_** the ship answered, sensing her discomfort and shutting everyone else but Atlantis out of their conversation. She could tell that it annoyed the Doctor greatly to be kicked out of the connection but she ignored it in favor of a smile when he got nudged over to the giant scanner at the other end of the room.

 

_“I’m glad that you and Atlantis are getting along brilliantly but could you two take a break for a bit? Your excitement has permeated the minds of those that can sense Atlantis and it’s causing them headaches; specifically Doctor Beckett and Colonel Sheppard.”_

 

She felt the ship withdraw from her mind, apparently conferring with the city discussing the situation. The lights within the infirmary blinked wildly and two heads looked up, pain etched on their faces, then smiled, apparently assuring the concerned city.

 

The TARDIS came back into her mind, nudging her way slowly so as not to hurt her. **_“It is done Rose. Please apologize to Doctor Beckett and Colonel Sheppard for us.”_**

****

_“I will. Thanks,”_ Rose answered then turned a smile onto the man in front of her. “The TARDIS and Atlantis apologize; they didn’t realize they were hurting you or the Colonel.”

 

Carson smiled warmly, “I know, Atlantis told us but how did you?” He inserted an IV full of fluids inter her arm, giving her much needed hydration then went about checking her vitals.

 

“I can talk to the TARDIS. She and I have formed quite a bond over the past couple of years,” Rose said almost proudly. Fondness shone within her eyes, making them sparkle almost like the Time Vortex had returned within her.

 

“I’ll bet you have,” Carson assured, grabbing a syringe and vial from the cart next to her bed. “You’re very healthy but a bit exhausted. I’d like to give you a light sedative to help you get some badly needed rest. Is that okay?”

 

Rose chewed on her lip. She didn’t want to be given a sedative but she had to admit that she was so completely knackered that sleep sounded heavenly. “Alright,” she granted.

 

Carson injected the sedative, waiting until she was asleep before he brought his hand up to rub at his temples in a futile attempt to massage away the lingering throbbing of the headache. He sat down in the chair next to Rose’s bed, his eyes roaming briefly over the girl’s sleeping form before he closed his eyes and leaning his head back.

 

“Wow, I’m surprised she let you do that. Normally I have to ground her to her room before she’ll go to sleep,” the Doctor’s cheery voice said from behind them. Carson, briefly startled by the sound, jumped up in his seat and looked around until he found the source of the voice. The Doctor was walking towards them with a bright grin on his face, a limp on his left side and his blue pinstriped pants on.

 

“Somehow that sounds more like you Doc,” John said, saving Carson the trouble.

 

The Doctor smiled, but didn’t dispute the statement, choosing to leave instead.

 

“Just where d’you think you’re goin’?” Carson called, stopping the man in his tracks. The effect of the semi-friendly smile on his face was diminished by his arms being crossed over his chest. His posture radiated determination; it was a silent dare to anyone to disobey. Carson wasn’t a cruel man, but he knew how to make check-ups, whether regular or post-mission, particularly painful and/or taxing.

 

“Hm? Oh, right! You probably need to release me or something, yeah?”

 

“Aye, I do and you’re not goin’ until I’ve seen to your leg.”

 

“Boy, I’ve forgotten how stubborn you Scots are,” the Doctor griped. Still, he limped back over to the bed, lowered his pants and hopped on, allowing the Scot to examine the injury. To his great surprise, he didn’t even feel the man’s hands on his leg, though he knew they were. He watched in study as the Scot pressed and prodded the slowly closing wound, finding himself wincing in both sympathy and pain whenever the man before him winced or touched a tender spot.

 

“Aye, well, the wound doesn’t look too bad, do you mind telling me how this happened?”

 

“The wraith now have lasers,” the Colonel replied for him with a sneer in his voice that the Doctor knew wasn’t meant for him. It was more the tone of someone saying “just what we needed”.

 

“Bloody weapons,” the Scot growled as he wrapped a gauze bandage around the Doctor’s leg.

 

“I take it you’re not a fan of guns either?” the Doctor inquired though it wasn’t really a surprise.

 

“It’s my job to preserve life, not take it, “the Scot replied simply.

 

“True, but that isn’t necessarily the stance in every species. Take the Sontarans for example; they think their very purpose is to fight in a battle and win. To be in charge of someone else’s health is to be disgraced to them.”

 

“The who?” the doctor inquired, leaning forward on his knees to give the Time Lord his full attention.

 

“Sontarans; they look like human-sized potatoes in space suits, though they are quite short.”

 

A quiet beeping interrupted further conversation and Carson looked down at the tablet in his hands. The Doctor watched as the man’s eyebrows shot into his hairline before quickly lowering again as the man sighed.

 

“Well, I see what you meant by your comment earlier,” he said though he was obviously referring to the scan. He looked up at the Doctor with a lecture in his eyes, “Though you could have mentioned that you’d injured your wrist as well.” He held out his hand, “Hand it over.”

 

The Doctor did as he was told, grudgingly obedient. He knew the injury wasn’t worth mentioning but if he didn’t allow the Scot to examine it, he had a feeling that the TARDIS wouldn’t allow him off Atlantis until he did.

 

“Do you mind if I ask where you’re from?” Carson inquired as he carefully examined the wrist.

 

“Well,” the Doctor replied, again dragging out the word, “from here and there, really. My home planet was destroyed many, many years ago so it’s not really worth mentioning since you haven’t heard of it. Now I just travel wherever the TARDIS takes me.”

 

“But you’re not from Pegasus?” Ronon inquired, reminding them all that he was there.

 

“No, I’m not,” the Doctor answered. “It feels like I’m always ending up on Earth so I suppose you could say that’s where I’m from the most, but the fact of the matter is, I don’t really belong anywhere except in the time vortex and that’s not a place one can stay for very long.”

 

“Time vortex?” the Colonel said.

 

“Yes, it’s sort of like the place in between time. Very cold, very dead and very harsh. No one, not even the TARDIS, can survive there for too long so we often drop wherever she wants.”

 

“And that’s how you landed on PX3-525?”

 

“If that’s your name for the planet we were just on, then yes.”

 

“Do you have your own name for it?” Ronon asked before John could.

 

“Yes. It is called Gabhar. Not the most cosmetic name, I’m sure but that is indeed its name.” He smiled then winced when his wrist was manipulated.

 

“Sorry about that,” Carson apologized, pulling out a compression bandage from a tray nearby. He swiftly applied the bandage then walked away to grab something. The group stared at him in shock when they saw that it was just a bottle of water. “Here,” he said, handing it to the Doctor, “I’m sure that you’re dehydrated like the others are but since you seem to be so eager to get back to your ship, this is all I can give you.”

 

“What? He gets to leave and I have to stay?” John pouted very loudly.

 

“Other than the relatively deep cut to his knee and his sprained wrist, he’s fine Colonel-“

 

“- what about his cheek? I swear, I heard it crack!” John argued, interrupting Carson’s explanation.

 

“As you can see Colonel, the bruise on his cheek is perfectly fine,” Carson answered, pointing at the Doctor’s face. Where a painfully deep bruise had previously been, there was now nothing more than a light bruise. “You, on the other hand, have a moderate concussion and will be staying for overnight observation.”

 

The Doctor, sensing that if he stayed any longer he wouldn’t be allowed to leave, slipped out of the infirmary while the Colonel and the Scot argued. He really didn’t want to be stuck playing thirty questions tonight. All he wanted was to curl up in his ship and fall into the healing sleep.

 

Normally he abhorred the idea of needing sleep but he knew that if he was to be any use to the Gabrihath, he would need all of his strength and the healing sleep was the only way to get it.

 

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

_“Control room to Doctor Beckett,”_ Carson’s comm. chirped from his bedside table. Blue eyes snapped open as adrenaline began to course through his veins in preparation for a medical emergency.

 

He grabbed the device and placed it in his ear before answering, “This is Doctor Beckett, go ahead.”

 

_“Sir, Colonel Sheppard would like me to me remind you that you have a meeting with him, Doctor Weir, and the Doctor at 0800.”_

Carson’s brows furrowed in confusion. He’d seen Elizabeth yesterday and she hadn’t mentioned a meeting to him. Since the Doctor was included in the meeting, it was probably a given that they were going to discuss how they were going to go about their rescue mission, but for the life of him, Carson couldn’t figure out why _he_ would need to be involved.

 

He groaned when he looked at the clock and saw that it was barely six a.m.

 

“Aye, alright, thank you Chuck,” Carson responded to let the tech know that he’d heard and would be there. For a minute he thought about asking why he’d been woken up so early, but he doubted that it was Chuck’s idea and so he didn’t. Besides, it was always a good idea to get up two hours before your day when on Atlantis. _And_ at six in the morning, there was a better chance at getting waffles before everyone else got to them.

 

With his stomach rumbling in anticipation and his mind still trying to figure out why he’d been summoned to the meeting, Carson slowly got out of bed and began preparing for the day.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

_THWACK!_ Ronon landed a blow on John’s left side, his Bantos stick hitting the flesh without mercy. The pilot barely had time for a wince before the Satedan was striking again. This time John managed to block the blow and landed one himself, smiling confidently when he heard Ronon give a brief grunt.

 

“So, you had Chuck wake the Doc up early?” the big man asked as they continued to spar. Their usual morning routine was to jog through the city, but both had wanted a more physical start to their day and so this is what they chose.

 

“Yeah,” John replied, blocking yet another blow. He and Ronon circled each other, taking a breather and waiting for the other to strike again. “I figured he could use the extra time.”

 

They both smiled, knowing that that was _not_ the reason John had had the tech alert Beckett to the meeting so early. It was actually payback for making John stay in the infirmary overnight. Sure, the pilot had snuck out while the overnight crew had either been busy or asleep, but still, Beckett knew that he hated staying in the infirmary overnight for, what John believed was, no reason; he had it coming.

 

_THWACK-CRACK-THWUMP!_

 

“And what’s he gonna do to you once he figures out that you snuck out?” Ronon asked, once again stepping back after a brief spar. Across from him, John was favoring his left side a bit more and giving a wince whenever he moved it. The Satedan smiled, knowing that his last blow had hit the same spot as before. His CO would be lucky if he didn’t have a cracked rib or three before their session ended.

 

John froze for a second, trying to contemplate exactly _what_ Beckett would do when he found out that John had snuck out of his infirmary. His imagination conjured up many things, but not of which John found particularly disturbing – well, with the exception of keeping him grounded.

 

At the amendment, he made a face and Ronon took that as his cue to attack once again. Though he was caught off-guard, it wasn’t enough to allow the big man another chance to hit him. John defended his weaker side eagerly and swiftly, returning a blow for each one the Satedan tried to land and getting in a couple licks of his own.

 

Just as he was about to land his final blow, his comm. activated.

 

 _“Doctor Becket to Colonel Sheppard,”_ the doctor’s brogue announced in his ear.

 

Just as Beckett began talking, Ronon took out John’s legs, making him land on the floor with a hard _thud_. Above him, the big man sneered which made the pilot pout a little.

 

“That doesn’t count. My comm. went off,” he griped as Ronon helped him to his feet.

 

“It counts,” Ronon argued, joining John in a drink of water at their gym bags.

 

John gave enough pause to glare at his friend before he touched the device in his ear. “This is Sheppard, go ahead Doc.”

 

_“Thank you for the wake-up call, Colonel. Next time, I’d appreciate it if you’d tell Chuck to wait until dawn before you have him wake me up.”_

John smiled at the half humorous, half grousing tone in the Scot’s voice. “Well, I just wanted to make sure that you had enough time to get something to eat before the meeting.”

 

_“Aye, and thank you for your concern, Colonel, but I am not Rodney.”_

 

Again, John smiled. “Thank God for that. One is enough.”

 

 _“I can hear you, you know,”_ Rodney’s voice griped as the scientist joined the conversation.

 

“I know,” John said, smiling at Ronon who easily returned the gesture. The grabbed their gear, and, by silent agreement, started heading towards their separate sleeping quarters to shower and change.

 

 _“Oh, ha-ha, Colonel, very funny,”_ Rodney tonelessly replied.

 

 _“Speaking of food, Colonel, you should eat before the meeting as well. That is, if you and Ronon have finished sparring.”_ When John winced at Beckett’s statement, he heard Beckett chuckle, _“Aye, I know you were sparring, even though you didn’t have medical permission to do so.”_

“I felt fine, Doc, I swear.”

 

 _“Aye, I know. You always do. That doesn’t mean that you are, I’m afraid.”_ There was a pause and then he said, _“At any rate, take your shower. I’ll see you at the meeting.”_

And with that Beckett signed off. John entered his room, quickly taking his comm. out of his ear in case anyone else wanted to say anything. He was a little shocked that the doctor had let him off so easily. Normally Beckett pestered and barked until John was back in the infirmary where he should  be, not let him get away with it. Maybe he’d suspected that John was going to escape and so wasn’t either surprised or mad about it? Either way, John wasn’t going to argue with it.

 

He stripped off his clothes and climbed into the shower, silently thanking Atlantis for starting it without him asking her to. He heard a brief, almost curt, reply to his thanks before the link went silent. Apparently another sentient ship was more important than talking to him. John shrugged. He didn’t mind it; he couldn’t pretend to understand what it felt like being so alone and isolated from someone who truly understood how you felt.

 

Speaking of the TARDIS!

 

 _“Hey, Atlantis,”_ he mentally called as he dried himself off.

 

**_Yes John?_ **

****

_“Could you have the TARDIS remind the Doctor about the meeting with Doctor Weir and I? I don’t want the meeting to last longer because he forgot.”_

**_Do not worry, Colonel Sheppard,_** the TARDIS replied for Atlantis, **_A meeting of that importance is not something my thief is likely to forget._**

****

_“Right, sorry,”_ John answered, not exactly sure why he was apologizing. Through the ship’s tone he’d gathered that he’d somehow offended either the ship or her Doctor, but he couldn’t be sure.

 

**_It is alright. He is still sleeping for now, but I will wake him before long._ **

****

John thought about making a statement about the Doctor seeming like the type that doesn’t sleep as much as he should, but he let it pass; the Doctor’s sleeping habits weren’t exactly important right now, and the man – no, alien, though he didn’t look like one – could take care of himself. If not, he had Rose to help him out.

 

Just as he thought the conversation had been finished, he felt a gentle knock on his mind. He mentally opened the door and waited for Atlantis to speak. To his surprise, it wasn’t Atlantis whom wanted to talk to him.

 

**_Is Rose alright? I cannot seem to reach her._ **

****

Uncomfortable with discussing someone that he had no idea about, John smiled at the TARDIS’ concern and answered, _“I haven’t seen her since last night, but when I left she was sleeping. If you want more information, however, you should give Beckett a call.”_

There was a pause where, John assumed, the TARDIS conferred with Atlantis for help in deciphering John’s meaning, and then she was back with a simple, **_Thank you._** Then there was nothing, and the pilot was left to get dressed and head to breakfast in peace.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**_Rose. Rose._ **

****

Someone was calling her name, she could hear it. The voice was familiar and it resembled home, safety, and love to her. But she couldn’t be bothered to wake up to answer. Her body felt weighed down, as did her mind. No matter how much she tried to even mentally answer the voice, nothing came. Her brain was too tired; it was demanding more sleep, and since her body agreed, she relented, letting the dark take her once more.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Carson emptied his tray, smiling at whoever he passed as he walked out. Now that he’s had some coffee and breakfast, he was in a much better mood. He hadn’t been surprised to find out that the Colonel had escaped during the night when no one was looking; it was a common occurrence. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t think the military commander had needed to spend the entire night in the infirmary anyways and so he wasn’t angry about the escape.

 

He’d just stepped into the transporter when he felt a gentle but insistent knock on the back of his mind. Knowing that Atlantis didn’t knock before speaking, Carson furrowed his brows, worried that something was wrong. He opened a figurative door and waited for the TARDIS to speak.

 

**_Is Rose alright?_ **

****

The furrow in Carson’s brows increased, this time with confusion. _“I believe so, love, why do you ask?”_

**_I haven’t been able to reach her, her mind is somehow closed off from me and it’s unusual._ **

****

Carson chuckled and he let his relief and assurance flow through his link with the ship. _“Don’t worry. I gave her a sedative last night so that she could get some rest. Given her state of exhaustion, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was still making her groggy.”_

**_I see. And she let you do this willingly?_ **

****

_“Aye. I don’t inject drugs into a person’s system without their okay, I assure you.”_

**_That statement does not include the wraith, I take it._ **

****

Carson, who was just about to the infirmary, stopped short. The tone in the ship’s voice was cold, almost angry. Clearly she has been updated on what has happened the past five years and she didn’t agree with it.

 

Quietly, he slipped into his office, closed the door and collapsed into his office chair. Not being used to this much conversation with a sentient ship, his head was once again beginning to throb, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that at the moment; he doubted the ship was done speaking with him and he felt as though he needed to defend himself, not only against her accusations about the wraith, but about Rose as well.

 

_“Aye, I’ll grant you in the past it did not. I regret very much my part in, not only the Hoffan plague, but the retrovirus and thus Michael as well. I’m honestly not sure that I can say that I would act differently should I be able to go back and change things, but I would like to think that I would try. Our understanding of the wraith then and the wraith now are very different.”_

**_Do not worry, Doctor, I am not accusing you of anything. Humans often do not see the bigger picture and neither I nor the Doctor can fault you for that flaw. We would simply wish you to think about all sides of a story before you act against an enemy, whether they be familiar or foreign._ **

****

Carson thought about that for a moment, sure that there was a hidden or second meaning in the statement. When he couldn’t immediately discern what it was, however, he gave a mental sigh. _“Aye, well I expect Rose to sleep for another few hours at the least. She was truly quite exhausted when she arrived and her body is using the time to recharge.”_ He paused for a minute, debating saying something, then he went ahead and spoke his mind, sure that the TARDIS knew what he was thinking anyways. _“Do you lot not get many chances for sleep?”_

Though he couldn’t see the ship, he felt her smile.

 

 ** _You’re worried about them,_** a statement, not a question.

 

 _“I would be a pretty poor doctor if I wasn’t,”_ he answered with a slight chuckle.

 

**_Not necessarily. Empathy is not a requirement when going into the medical profession. You can be a great doctor and still not care about the patient._ **

****

_“I suppose,”_ he granted, thinking that they must watch a lot of American TV on the ship. _“You didn’t answer my question, though.”_

Again, the TARDIS figuratively smiled. **_No, I did not. The answer to your question is not a simple one, and I fear that if I were to start an explanation you would miss your meeting. It starts in ten minutes, does it not?_**

****

Carson looked down at his watch, his eyebrows rising in surprise when he discovered that the TARDIS was right. He was instantly out of his chair and heading out of the infirmary before another word could be said.

 

Thanks to transporters and five years of getting to know every inch of Atlantis, Carson wasn’t late. In fact, he was a few minutes early. He smiled at Elizabeth, who unsurprisingly enough was already there, and grabbed another cup of coffee.

 

“Morning Elizabeth,” he warmly greeted as he sat down and waited for it to begin.

 

“Morning Carson,” she returned, pausing from whatever was on her tablet to physically address him. “How are you?”

 

“I’m good, and yourself?” Carson lied. His head was still aching pretty badly, but it wasn’t anything anyone needed to know or worry about.

 

“I’m good as well,” Elizabeth answered, giving a slight smile before turning her attention back to her tablet.

 

Carson let her be, figuring she had important emails to concentrate on until the meeting started. Taking the brief respite for what it was, he slowly leaned down in the chair so that his head was supported by the back of the chair and closed his eyes.

 

His only warning that someone else had entered the room was a familiar voice saying, “Head’s up Doc,” quickly followed by the sound of a pill bottle being thrown in the air. Out of pure instinct and luck, Carson managed to catch the bottle before it hit him square in the face, but that didn’t stop him from semi-glowering at the Colonel. The pilot smiled, saying, “Someone thought you might need that.”

 

As Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney shuffled in behind the Colonel, Carson looked down at the bottle in his hand and smiled when he noticed that it was aspirin. “Aye,” he granted, opening the bottle and swallowing two down with his coffee, “I suppose I might.”

 

“Ooh, what have we got here? Some new drug to discover? Well, for you lot, anyways, not for me obviously. Oh, it’s just aspirin. Nasty stuff, that is. Don’t ever give me any; I had a bad reaction to it one time and I don’t want to experience that again.”

 

The small group of Lanteans looked at the man who had just walked into the room, babbling away. The Doctor smiled at their singular expressions of bafflement and waved, “Good morning. It is morning isn’t it? Well, of course it is; I mean, I know that it is, but, blimey, how can you lot keep track? The sun has barely set long enough for a night to have passed. Of course, I suppose you humans are used to the sun being down for such a short time. Well, I say short, but in all actuality, it’s quite long compared to a lot of planets. Take Kapa, for instance – their sun is only down for about three hours and then it’s back to work. Of course, they’re farmers and they need all the sunshine they can get, can’t they?”

 

“Am I late?” Major Lorne asked, arriving just as the Doctor had finished his ramble. He slipped by the Doctor, choosing to sit across from his CO and patiently waited for the meeting to start.

 

“No, Major, you’re right on time,” Elizabeth said, snapping out of her blank stare and coming back to reality. She watched the being called the Doctor as he sat himself down by Carson with a broad grin on his face and his hands clasped loosely on the table. She did her best to hide her surprise when she noticed that he was barely limping anymore and that the once livid bruise on his cheek was now gone.

 

The doors to the conference room closed with a slight hissing sound, signaling the beginning of the meeting.

 

“Alright, as you all know, we’re here to discuss how to free the-,” she paused, looking to the Doctor for help on the name of the race.

 

“Gabrihaths,” he supplied in an even tone, his mood sobering up under the face of business.

 

“-the Gabrihaths from the wraith. Now, as I’m sure you all know, it won’t be easy-“

 

“-it won’t even be in the realm of easy,” Rodney interjected, clearly unable to help himself.

 

“That’s not necessarily true, Rodney, we have done this before,” John responded.

 

“We’ve freed people from the wraith, but these beings aren’t people, they are overgrown dogs,” Rodney argued.

 

“And as such, they are not worthy of your help?” the Doctor challenged. His voice was dead, but there was an anger behind it that burned hotter than fire.

 

“Well, no, of course, not,” Rodney jabbered, clearly taken aback at how passionately the Doctor felt about helping the Gabrihaths.

 

“Because if they are, then you can just stay here; I’ll not have you slowing me down.”

 

“Slowing you down?” Rodney returned, his voice almost a challenge in and of itself.

 

“Alright, that’s enough!” Elizabeth called before an argument broke out. “Now, Rodney, they may not be human, but they _have_ asked for help and we are in their debt for helping you all escape. So, we _will_ help them, end of story.”

 

“But,” Rodney tried to argue, but after Elizabeth continued to stare at him, he caved, “Fine.” He swiveled his chair so that he was addressing only the Doctor and said, “How do you propose we go about this rescue mission?”

 

The Doctor’s answering smile was not an encouraging one, though none of them knew why they thought that. It was a look one would expect a fox to give before he pounced on his prey.

 

“That’s simple, isn’t it?” the Doctor replied, once again leaning back lazily into his chair. “We walk through the front door.”

 

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VII:

“Rose,” a voice called to her. “Wakey, wakey,” it cooed. When she gave no sign of coming to, it spoke again, this time with a bit of a bite in its tone, “Oi! Get up you lazy git!” 

Brown eyes snapped open at the command, and then quickly snapped shut when they were assaulted by bright light. 

“I told you that would work,” the Doctor said with an obvious self-satisfied smile on his face. Even with her eyes closed, she could imagine him sitting back in whatever chair he was in, or leaning against the nearest wall with his arms over his chest and a dorky grin on his face. 

“If anyone’s the lazy git around here, it’s you,” she croaked as she slowly opened her eyes, this time prepared for the bright light of the outside world. 

The Scottish doctor from the night before – Doctor Beckett was it? – stood off to her right, apparently reading a chart that may very well have been hers. He smiled warmly at her when she looked over at him and opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t get very far as the Doctor chose that moment to argue. 

“Oi! I’m not lazy. When have you ever seen me be lazy?” he pouted from the foot of her bed where a wall just happened to be. As expected, he was leaning against, looking like a ten year old that had been forced to sit in a relative’s hospital room. 

“How about after Papei? You slept for days then,” Rose said, still trying to wake up. 

“No, you can’t hold that against me, I was recuperating.” 

“Yeah, well, you recuperated for four days straight. I almost got bored; thankfully the TARDIS likes me and she kept me company.” 

“I can only imagine what you two did,” the Doctor returned, sounding annoyed that his baby was bonding with someone other than him. 

“Oh, no you can’t,” Rose giggled, slowly sitting up as Doctor Beckett helped raise her bed. “Your bedroom is very interesting; I managed to clean a bunch of stuff out of it that I’m sure you aren’t even missing.” 

“I’ll have you know that I noticed everything that you had cleaned out, and I also put it back where it was.” 

“You did not.” 

“Did. You can go check right now if you like.” 

“After I make sure that you’re alright,” the Scot interjected, obviously sensing that she would do just that. She smiled warmly at him, loving the way his blue eyes gleamed down at her when he smiled. “How are you feelin’, love?” 

“Better, actually,” Rose admitted, almost surprised by how good she felt. It was amazing what a drug-induced sleep could do for the body. She actually felt refreshed. Most of the time when she slept on the TARDIS, she woke and was just awake and ready for the next adventure, but this time she felt more than that. This time, she not only felt ready for the next adventure, she was eager for it; she was ready to tackle whatever came her way today, and that was a new feeling. 

“Good. I’ll have Marie bring you some breakfast and then you can go once you’re done.” He turned his attention from her to the Doctor at the foot of her bed. “And now for you. I’m assuming your leg has healed?” 

“Yep,” the Doctor answered, popping the ‘p’. “I’m assuming you still want to make sure that I’m alright though, eh?” 

“Aye, I do.” 

As the Doctor willingly – much to Rose’s shock – hopped onto the empty bed next to her, Rose asked, “Breakfast? So I only slept over night then?” 

Doctor Beckett stiffly shifted so that he was looking at her while the Doctor hoisted up his pant leg. “No, I’m afraid you slept for a little over thirty-six hours. The TARDIS was beginning to worry about you.” 

“The TARDIS?” both Rose and the Doctor asked as the Scot sat on a low stool to examine the Doctor’s healed leg. 

The examination was brief and soon Doctor Beckett was slowly easing off the stool and letting the Doctor roll his pant leg back down. He glanced from Rose, to the Doctor and back again, confused and surprised to learn that they didn’t know of the contact. 

“Aye,” he said, grabbing a tablet and writing something on it. “She asked me if you were alright a time or two, because she couldn’t reach you psychically. I told her not to worry, but apparently she is as much of a mother hen as my Second, Doctor Porter.” 

“I heard that!” a woman with dark brown hair and honey-brown eyes called from her spot by a medical bed, giving her boss a smile before she returned to her job. The small group laughed a little at her response, their smiles increasing when they noticed that the woman, Doctor Porter, was chuckling a little as well. “Oh, and Carson, you know the rules.” 

“Aye, I do, and I’ll thank you not to remind me of them,” the Scot returned, sounding a little annoyed at her gentle warning. However, he pulled up the vacant chair that sat in between the two infirmary beds, looking like a dog that had just been told to sit. 

Behind the Scot’s back, Rose threw the Doctor a curious expression, which he easily returned. 

“What was that about?” she asked, not being shy about butting in to a person’s personal life.

“It’s nothing,” the Scot answered, giving her a smile that was clearly meant to distract her from the subject. 

She opened her mouth to say something more, but she couldn’t find a reason as to why she was so curious, so she closed her mouth instead. Normally she had no problem being nosey, but it was usually because it was important to everyone’s survival. This time it would have just been rude, and she wasn’t the Doctor after all – she knew when to leave things be. 

When a pretty Asian woman walked into the infirmary carrying a tray of food, Doctor Beckett smiled. 

“Right then, I’ll leave you to your breakfast,” he announced, slowly getting out of the chair and – dare she say limping? – to the foot of her bed. “Let me know if you need anything, love. I’ll be right over there if you do,” he said, pointing to a room that was just off the entrance to the infirmary. 

“Thank you Doctor Beckett,” she said, smiling at him, though watching him like a hawk. 

“Call me Carson,” he said, apparently uncomfortable with the formal title. “Everyone does.” 

With that, he walked away, leaving Rose and the Doctor to their own devices and mischief. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At four o’clock, SGA1 plus the Doctor and Rose reported to the infirmary for their pre-mission physical. Both the Doctor and Rose had insisted that it wasn’t necessary for them to go through this process, but Carson had just as strongly insisted that it was and not just for their health but for the health of those on Atlantis as well. 

When the group entered, a couple doctors and a few nurses began instructing them all where to go. 

“Where’s Doctor Beckett?” Rose asked as the Asian nurse from earlier led her to the same bed she’d occupied earlier on. 

“Doctor Porter is giving him his pre-mission physical.”

“That’s odd, isn’t it? I would have thought he would be helping to give us our physicals,” Rose said, looking around for a sign of the handsome doctor, though she didn’t know why. 

“Why’s that? All of you need to have your physical taken care of, not just you six.” 

“Six? I thought there was another team accompanying us as well,” the Doctor said, patiently allowing his nurse to perform her tests. He winked at her when he heard her give a startled gasp as she’d just discovered his two hearts. 

“They are, but they had their checks an hour ago. Doctor Beckett thought that having all of you in at the same time was a bit much and so he stagnated your physicals so that it was easier for us to handle.” 

“Not enough doctors and nurses?” the Doctor asked, as the nurse checked his temperature. Again he winked at her when she discovered that he was a little colder than most humans to let her know that he was fine. He hopped off the bed and went to stand beside Rose’s, apparently feeling that the exam was finished. 

“It’s actually to take it easy on the staff,” Colonel Sheppard interjected with a smile. From the bed next to his, his large companion, Ronon, smiled at the implication. “We can be a bit much when in a large group.” 

“I believe that’s the understatement of the year, Colonel,” Doctor Beckett replied as he walked into where everyone else was being examined.

Rose saw the Colonel’s eyes narrow slightly as he watched the doctor walk and – out of curiosity at his intensity – it made her do the same. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly when she finally realized why the Colonel was watching him so intently. Though it was very light, almost unnoticeable, the Scottish doctor was limping. 

The limp wasn’t noticeable, obviously. And though now that she saw it, Rose couldn’t help but see it with every step, she could easily assume that whatever had caused the injury had happened long ago since the doctor’s gait seemed to automatically adjust to it and it now appeared to just be part of the way he walked. 

“I try my best not to state the obvious too much, Doc,” the Colonel responded. He eyed the nurse warily as she approached him with a needle. “Really, Doc, is this necessary? Couldn’t we just do a scan?” 

“Aye, but what would be the fun in that Colonel?”

The Colonel’s eyes narrowed. “Is there a reason why you’re punishing me?” 

“I hardly think drawing your blood is worth considering a punishment, Colonel,” the doctor lectured, pulling up a spare chair. 

“Doctor Beckett, are you quite alright?” the Doctor asked, interrupting the friendly banter. Despite the quietness of his voice, the keenness in it and the question alone had them all paying deep attention to the two Doctors.

The Scottish doctor seemed to momentarily freeze at the question and those a part of Colonel Sheppard’s team appeared to do the same. This only served to pique Rose’s curiosity. Whatever had happened obviously still had an effect on them all and though she couldn’t prove it, Rose assumed that it had been something relatively traumatic. 

The moment lasted for no more than a matter of seconds and then Doctor Beckett relaxed and he gave the Doctor a smile that didn’t quire reach his eyes. 

“Aye, lad, I’m fine,” he answered. In his hands, something the Lanteans had come to call a data pad beeped and he looked down to read the results. “Right, well, Teyla, Rodney, and Rose, you’re cleared to leave.” 

“What about the rest of us?” Colonel Sheppard practically pouted. 

“You, Colonel, could have been cleared had you not spent a great deal of your time fighting the physical,” Carson returned. He barely hid a smile as he turned his back to the Colonel and began to usher the Doctor over to the nearest examination bed. 

“You are punishing me, aren’t you?” the Colonel asked when the nurse, Marie, came back with yet another needle. 

“I am most certainly not punishing you, lad,” Doctor Beckett denied. He straightened up after listening to the Doctor’s chest and proceeded to examine the Time Lord’s previous injuries. “Although, might I remind you to think of this the next time you feel it necessary to wake be before dawn when you, yourself shouldn’t have even been out of the infirmary?” 

Rose gave a silent chuckle, understanding precisely what was going on and knowing that Doctor Beckett – Carson – was in fact punishing the Colonel quite thoroughly. The Colonel scowled at the doctor behind his back, giving a wince when Marie accidentally bumped into him. 

“Are you alright, Colonel?” the nurse asked, her expression neutral but her tone curious. 

“I’m fine,” the military man answered, giving the woman a charming smile in hopes of distracting her. 

“He needs to learn to block better,” Ronon answered from his own examination bed just behind the Colonel’s. 

“Och, what have ya done to yerself now?” Carson asked, his accent thickening enough to show his irritation. He stepped away from the Doctor and went over to the Colonel, swooping in to examine the man’s side before he had a chance to argue. 

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your leg?” the Doctor asked the Scot, reminding them all that the doctor was not wholly well. 

The Colonel winced when Carson pressed on the ribs in the center of his side. Rose watched as the Scot shook his head and walked away without bothering to answer the Doctor. He came back with an infinitely smaller version of the scanner in his hand and proceeded to run it over the Colonel’s side, quickly followed by his head. 

“Well, lad, I don’t know what you were thinking by goin’ up against Ronon this morning but you are lucky that he didn’t try to hit you harder.” The Colonel frowned at the statement, apparently believing that the bigger man had hit him plenty hard but he didn’t comment – quite wisely, Rose thought.

Once he made sure that he had John’s attention, Carson continued. “I’m not sure that I agree with Elizabeth’s decision to let you accompany the teams. Let’s just say that I’m quite glad that we won’t be leaving until tomorrow morning. But, you had better not come back any worse off than how you left. Believe it or not, Colonel, I don’t like spending half my time patching you and your team up after you’ve come back from a rescue.” 

The threat of what the Scot would do to the man was left unfilled but since he had the power to pretty much do anything to the military man via medical license, Rose figured he didn’t have to. The Colonel smirked and hopped off the bed, his eyes scrunching ever so slightly in a wince when it jarred his apparently injured side.

“Come on Chewie,” he said, looking over at Ronon and motioning his head towards the exit of the infirmary. “Before he decides to ground this whole mission for another day.” 

Rose watched the two friends as they left, wondering why Doctor Beckett wasn’t raising a fuss about the bigger man leaving before he’d been cleared to. She shrugged, getting off the exam bed and figuring that he’d already received the confirmation that he’d needed while he hadn’t been the center of attention. 

“I can go, too, yeah?” she asked just to make sure. 

Carson smiled softly at her, the ice in his blue eyes melting a little now that he was no longer facing an ornery Colonel Sheppard.

“Aye, lass, you and the Doctor are free to go. You’re both healthy as can be,” his attention briefly slid over to the doctor, a question in his face as though he’d love to know how that came to be, “and you have not picked up anythin’ irregular that we are concerned with.” 

“Well that’s surprising,” Rose said, watching the Doctor as he continued to remain sitting where he was. “You never know when you travel with him. I swear I’ve had so much alien slime smeared on me, I wouldn’t be surprised if I have picked up a disease or two from it.” 

“Oi!” the Doctor objected, affronted at the insinuation that he’d ever let her get sick. 

Carson smiled, his eyes laughing when he would not. “Aye, well, off you go. I’ll see you both bright and early tomorrow morning.” 

“Rose, you go on a head,” the Doctor said, officially telling her that he wouldn’t be joining her for a bit, though she had already guessed that. “I just want to have a quick word here with Doctor Beckett.” 

“Oh, my, that sounds a bit ominous,” Doctor Porter said, now insinuating herself into the conversation. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose had seen the doctor watching the group ever since Carson had left after his physical. She also noticed the woman’s attention sharpen when the Doctor had brought up Carson’s limp and it seemed that she had been waiting for the appropriate time to jump in since. 

“No,” the Doctor said, drawing out the word like he was prone to doing with others. “Well, I suppose it could be depending on the answer to my question, but in general I’d like to think that it’s nothing too serious.” 

“Unfortunately, Doctor, unless they’re medically relevant to you, I’m afraid Doctor Beckett is a bit busy.” 

“I am, now, am I?” Carson asked, his arms folded over his chest and his expression one of curiosity and humor.

“Actually, yes,” Doctor Porter answered. She smiled a bit, though it looked strained and then said, “Doctor McKay has ‘asked’ that you meet him in his lab once you’ve finished practicing your voodoo medicine.” 

“Oh he has, has he?” Carson asked, his expression not changing though Rose thought that she had seen him roll his eyes a time or two throughout Doctor Porter’s explanation. 

Doctor Porter nodded. “He said that he has some devices that he needs you to turn on.” 

“Och, bloody Ancients and their bloody machines,” Carson answered, sounding more Scottish by the second. He reached a hand towards his ear and activated his comm link. “Carson to Rodney.” He waited all of five seconds before he said, “I’ll have ye know, Rodney, tha’ I am no’ a bloody battery. I do not exist solely for ya ta use ta turn on those bloody devices the Ancients left around this bloody city.” 

“Come on,” Doctor Porter said to Rose and the Doctor. She nodded her head towards an excluded area in the back of the infirmary. “Let’s leave him to argue with Doctor McKay. I’ll do my best to answer your questions, Doctor.” 

Something in the way she spoke and ushered them into a secluded area, made Rose think that the woman knew exactly what the Doctor wanted to ask and so she stuck around, curious as well. As they left, they heard Carson’s accent get that much thicker before his voice faded altogether as the man left to go see his friend. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth stared at the email in front of her. Kavanagh had filed yet another complaint against Rodney and she honestly didn’t know what to do about it. She felt like telling Kavanagh to either grow up and stuff it or to transfer and get out from under Rodney. Quite frankly, she preferred the latter. 

“Doctor Weir?” Chuck’s voice said, the man himself standing in the door frame. She looked up to acknowledge him and waited. “The wraith Queen known as Amara has accepted our request for peace talks.” 

A pit of unease settled into Elizabeth’s stomach. Truth be told, she wasn’t completely sure about the Doctor’s plan for freeing the – what was it that he called them? – Gabri-somethings. Walking through ‘the front door’ as he called it seemed risky at best and that wasn’t taking into account all the other variables that Elizabeth didn’t doubt was running through the alien’s head. 

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a smile that hopefully hid how worried she was. “Alert Colonel Sheppard that he has a go.” 

Chuck nodded, returning her partial smile. He left without another word and Elizabeth returned to her silent concerns, pretending not to notice the way the light atop the blue box in her gateroom kept flashing almost angrily. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oi! Listen here you!”

John chuckled as he walked into the sentient ship. “Marriage trouble?” 

The Doctor’s head snapped over towards him and John could see some of the residual anger within the brown eyes. The anger soon faded but the serious expression on the man’s face never did and it concerned John just a little. 

Despite how he made it seem, John wasn’t here by chance. Atlantis had told him that there were complications with their plan and that he should talk to the Time Lord about it. It unnerved him a little that the ship wouldn’t say much; it was as though she were acting as a go between the humans and the two newest additions to the city. 

“Is there something I can help you with, Colonel?” 

Right to it then, alright. 

John leaned against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. In the back of his mind, he felt an annoyed buzz radiate, alerting him that the ship wasn’t happy with either his presence or the casual way in which he touched her. Either way he ignored it and kept his attention on the Doctor. 

“I’m told that there’s a problem with the plan,” John said, agreeing to the Doctor’s silent terms of not beating around the bush. 

“And you’re here to see if you can solve it,” the Doctor finished, mimicking John’s posture opposite him, leaning against the console with his arms over his chest. He eyed John as though he were sizing him up or daring him to contradict him. While the idea didn’t sit well with John, he figured it best to let the alien come to his own conclusions. The sooner they got over the suspicions on both sides, the better off all of them would be. 

The Doctor took a deep breath, almost as though preparing to say something, but before he could, his companion followed by Carson entered, halting whatever was about to be said. 

“Everything alright?” the Doctor’s companion, Rose, asked, sensing something in the air. 

“Yeah,” the Doctor answered. “Why wouldn’t it be?” 

He stepped away from the console and turned to face it, playing with random knobs and doohickies as he circled the thing. One look at Rose told John that he’d done that form of denial before and that she found it just as annoying as he currently did. 

“Is there something I can help you with, Doc?” John asked, curious as to why Carson was here. 

“Aye, Rodney has been trying for the past hour to get a hold of you. He said to remind you that you’d promised to meet up with him in one of the Ancient labs in the lower levels to fire it up and that if you didn’t appear in the next ten minutes, you can kiss any opportunity of living comfortably in your room goodbye.” 

“I see,” John answered, pushing away from the railing and putting his hands in his pockets. Something about the glimmer in the Scot’s eyes made John suspect there was more to the story. “About how long ago was this?” 

“Oh, about five or six minutes, I’d say,” Carson answered with a smile. 

“You really don’t like being woken up early, do you?” John grumbled.

“Not when it was one of the few times I had to sleep in, no,” Carson answered, not bothering to deny that he was still punishing John. 

John didn’t bother to answer. Instead he threw the doctor a glare and then started running, knowing that he’d be lucky to get down to the labs within the allotted time. This just goes to show, don’t piss of a Scot. 

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter VIII**

Carson watched John take off at a jog down to the bowels of Atlantis, smiling at the small joke he’d managed to play on the Colonel. He was sure he’d pay for it via another early wake-up call once the man discovered that Rodney was not in fact waiting for him at all, but for the moment he figured he’d stick with feeling content.

 

Once he was sure the Colonel was out of earshot, he turned his smile on the Doctor who had stopped pretending to be busy the moment John had left.

 

Like John, Carson had been told via Atlantis that there was a small problem with the mission, but unlike with the Colonel, she had actually told Carson what the problem was and it had nothing to do with the Doctor, but his ship. He could feel it in the atmosphere around him as well as the faint buzz in the back of his mind.

 

To be frank, Carson wasn’t all too sure that he should be going along either. It wasn’t a question of whether or not he was physically able to go – the main problem that would keep him behind was not a current worry. No, it was the bait that the Doctor was using him as. It settled like an ulcer in his stomach every time he thought of it and it made him literally nauseous to know just what the Doctor was proposing he do. The fact that, when he’d rejected the idea, Elizabeth had essentially ordered him to do it only made things worse. Had she really learned nothing from the past?

 

“Look,” the Doctor’s companion, Rose said when he’d turned to go. “I know that you don’t like what we’re plannin’. But it really is for the best.”

 

Her attempts to soothe either him or his conscience made him sick.

 

“Aye,” Carson said, unable to hide the growl of emotion in his voice. The young lass probably didn’t know the full extent of the situation and so it wasn’t fair to her to shunt a little of his anger onto her. Then again, it didn’t seem like the Doctor hid much from the girl and so maybe she did know everything that was going on; somehow, he doubted it.

 

He turned around, wincing a wee bit when pain shot through his foot.

 

It had been over three years since the planet where everything had gone to hell in a handbasket for the Atlantis team. Those that survived the mission and Michael’s wraith experiment had gotten over the whole ordeal pretty well, but there were a few of those that still carried scars and, unfortunately, Carson was one of them – literally. Throughout the years, he’d had several different surgeries – some from Earth, some via the Ancients – and while the doctors were able to fix a great deal of the damage that had been done by Major Leonard, there was some damage that could not be undone.

 

The damage that had been done to his heel, for instance, from the stray bullet that had originally been meant for his head had been repaired. It had been a grueling process filled with no little amount of pain and patience, not to mention a lot of coffee and snapping on Rodney’s part since it had been the physicist to discover the Ancient device that had allowed them to, essentially, regrow and refuse the bone.

 

The damage that had been done by the linsfranc fracture in combination with the bullet, however, was less easily fixable and Carson and the surgeons had opted for the more general procedures to repair it.

 

For the most part, Carson was a very lucky man. The only times he had any real troubles with the foot was when he was stuck on his feet during the many emergencies that Atlantis seems to get throughout the months. Otherwise, his staff, and Grace more specifically, attempted to make him take care of himself and tried to allow him time to sit throughout the day.

 

Grace Porter, Carson discovered, was about as stubborn as he was when it came to patients. There had been many times during his recovery when he’d tried to pull rank, or used other threats in order to get his way, and still she hadn’t budged. She had been determined that he would take the very best care of himself, and throughout it all, she’d stuck to it. By the end, Carson had had a new respect for his 2IC. Not only that, but they’d formed a rather close friendship for which he was thankful.

 

A soft hand on his arm drew Carson back to the present and he looked up into the warm brown eyes of Rose. She smiled encouragingly at him and so he finished his thought.

 

“An’ do you have any idea of the history behind the decision that Doctor Weir has made?”

 

This question was aimed at both people in the room. While the Doctor gave a minute nod, Rose shook her head.

 

Somehow it didn’t surprise Carson that the Doctor knew everything and yet was still willing to go through with his plan. Behind the warmth and childlike energy there was a bitterness and age that Carson saw developing among some of the veterans of Atlantis. The constant fight with those outside the city were beginning to wear on a lot of the military men and it seemed that each time they went through the gate, so did some of their humanity.

 

Carson accepted both situations with weary disgust. He knew that he, himself was slowly becoming one of those disillusioned by the charms of the Pegasus Galaxy. But unlike a great many, Carson still held onto hope for the humanity in this galaxy. It was only a sliver, but it was enough for Carson to keep a feeling of self that he’d long since worried he’d abandoned shortly after his capture by Michael.

 

He smiled at the girl, silently wondering if she would, in fact, worm the history of everything out of her friend.

 

“You both should get some rest. I have a feeling it will be a long day tomorrow.” He gave Rose’s hand a pat and then he turned around and exited the TARDIS, feeling the ship within his mind slowly withdraw. He echoed the ship’s sigh – both of them relieved to know that not only did he have a conscience but that it was railing against what he was being told to do.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Rose watched the doctor as he left the ship, feeling a sudden wave of sadness as though it were rolling off the man himself.

 

The Doctor had told her, in detail, what his plan was and while she thought it odd for him to have a plan fully formed before he dove in, she was glad to be clued in for once. Still, something in the way the TARDIS and the Doctor and now Doctor Beckett were acting made her feel as though something very important was going on right under her nose and she didn’t like.

 

“What was that about?” she asked her friend, watching as he pretended to peruse something on the scanner.

 

The Doctor looked at her sharply for a minute before replying, “Nothing. Just a bit of history.” He typed something into the scanner and then went over to where the main controls were and began fiddling with them.

 

“No,” Rose argued, knowing that the Time Lord was being evasive and getting angrier by the second about it. “No, that was more than nothing. Something is going on between the lot of you and so help me you had better tell me right now what it is or I’ll sic my mum on you.”

 

Anyone else listening to their conversation would have thought that her threat had been made to make the situation lighter but it was anything but that. Jackie Tyler was a fierce woman. She was a force to be reckoned with and no one that came up against her, including the Oncoming Storm, would last much longer than a few seconds before being completely derailed and flattened.

 

The Doctor turned around to face her, leaning against the console and eyeing her, weighing her threat for truth. “You wouldn’t dare,” he challenged.

 

“Try me,” Rose challenged back.

 

 _Shall I tell her?_ the TARDIS interrupted impatiently, the toneless voice somehow managing to hold a threat. They both knew that the ship had been listening in on all of their conversations and, judging by the near-suffocating atmosphere within the ship, had grown tired of the Doctor beating around the bush.

 

 _“Please!”_ Rose answered at the same time the Doctor said, _“No!”_

 

The Doctor sighed. Just when Rose believed him to say something, he turned around and left, conceding to the fight in a way that felt like defeat. If she had to guess, she’d say that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with how things had worked out either, but that he was willing to shoulder the responsibility if it meant coming to a peaceful solution.

 

 _My thief does not approve of the circumstances either,_ the TARDIS said, sounding a little mournful.

 

 _“And I suppose your arguing with him over things helped, did it?”_ Rose challenged, per protective nature in anything regarding the Doctor coming to the fore.

 

 _Probably not,_ the ship conceded without sense of remorse. _But it is done and now there is nothing more to do other than for me to give you all of the details…_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The morning of the rescue held no dawn at all. The first wave had to be up before the sun and for one Carson Beckett, that also included being up two hours before the rest of them.

 

Colonel Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, Rodney, and Carson all filed into the gateroom, meeting Rose and the Doctor there. Half of them looked ready to begin while the others remained half awake, begrudging those that remained in their beds.

 

“Did we really have to start at this ungodly hour?” Rodney grumbled, glaring at Sheppard.

 

“Time on Gabhr is different to time on Atlantis,” the Doctor answered, sounding his usual cheery self. He turned around and led the group into the TARDIS which waited to take them to the hive ship that orbited the planet they were visiting. “While we have been gone near three days, it has barely been one for them and since the wraith are basing their schedules on those of Gabhr, it is best to leave now when night is just beginning to settle on the planet than when the three suns are up and shining a spotlight on us all.”

 

Rodney grumbled something unintelligible to those around him and the Doctor smiled brightly as he began to fire up the ship.

 

“Besides,” he added, waiting for Doctor Beckett to close the doors before he flipped the lever. “It was Amara who set the time and not us.”

 

The TARDIS vroomped into action before harshly landing, sending those that were unprepared to the floor.

 

“What does that mean?” Rose asked, not understanding why that made the Doctor smile of all things. She offered a hand to Doctor Beckett who had been one of the few to have fallen and waited for an answer.

 

Amidst Rodney’s grumbling about the Doctor not being able to fly his stupid ship, the sounds of Velcro straps being undone, and many vials clinking together, one voice rang through the crowd. Ronon managed to look and sound particularly feral as he placed a vial of mysterious liquid into his coat pocket and said, “It means that she has something planned as well and that we had better be on our guard for whatever it is.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The group was greeted by twenty wraith drones as they stepped out of the TARDIS. Without a word of explanation – not that any in the group had actually expected one from the drones – they were marched to a cell where they were stripped of their weapons, TAC vests, and coats before they were pushed inside and the door was locked.

 

Apparently the Lanteans _were_ used to this as they all seemed to pull up a seat and get comfortable. Rose watched as Ronon took up a leaning stance against a wall near the sole bench while Rodney sat down on said bench and the Colonel and Teyla sat down on the floor. Doctor Beckett remained standing, staring out the bars as though he could stare the ship into opening them.

 

The Doctor chose to take a moment to pull out the sonic screwdriver from within his inside jacket pocket and began to scan their surroundings. Whatever readings he got, he kept to himself which Rose found not surprising as she doubted that he found much at all.

 

“Don’t you want to sit down?” she asked Doctor Beckett as quietly as she could. The group itself, while quiet, was also pensive – sans the Doctor – and she somehow felt that if she spoke too loudly the tentative peace they found themselves surrounded by would be broken and all hell would break loose.

 

Doctor Beckett smiled kindly at her. It did little to hide the unease that reflected in his blue eyes but she appreciated the effort. “I’m alright, thank ye love.” He went back to looking at the hallway and for a moment Rose thought that that was the end of the conversation. But then, he spoke again, forestalling her when she was about to begin heading to sit on the floor in the corner. “I suppose that Grace, Doctor Porter, told you, did she?”

 

Rose smiled, hoping that no blush appeared on her cheeks as she wasn’t embarrassed at all for prying. If truth be told, it hadn’t actually been her that had been nosy – it had been the Doctor but she supposed that since she listened in with rapt attention, it didn’t really matter.

 

At first she had wondered whether or not Grace had been unnecessarily overprotective of Carson. The way she kept a sharp eye on him, made Rose think that the woman had intentions other than friendship towards the Scot. But while her assessment of Grace’s feelings may be true, once she’d been told of the entire situation and of how taxing and how much pain it had caused Carson to get to how healthy he currently was, Rose understood things a little better. She did still think that it was a bit too much but she also couldn’t imagine what the whole ordeal on the planet had done to Colonel Sheppard and his team.

 

Rose knew that if something like that had happened to the Doctor, she would have moved heaven and earth to get him back and she would have plowed over anyone that had tried to stop her. Thankfully, the Doctor heals a lot quicker than humans, but she would have also been just as overprotective of him as Grace was of Doctor Beckett until the time lord had been fully healed. Thus confirming her suspicions that Grace had a thing for the kind Scot.

 

“Yeah,” Rose answered, refusing to lie for no reason. “The Doctor was curious about the secrecy and since you were going on this mission, Doctor Porter thought it best that we should know, just in case anything happened.”

 

“Aye, I suppose she’s right,” Carson granted. “Though I wish the bloody Doctor would have waited and asked me.”

 

Rose was about to point out that the Doctor _had_ asked him and he’d brushed him off, but she kept quiet. There wasn’t any reason to bring that up as Carson already knew that and she had an idea that that wasn’t when he was talking about. The Doctor _had_ asked to speak with Carson in private – maybe the Scot had known why and was referring to then?

 

Again, Carson smiled as he looked at her. It seemed to be a normal thing for him to do – smile that is – but there was something in this smile that somehow spoke of his forgiveness, though neither she nor the Doctor needed it.

 

“How did you like Atlantis?” he asked, turning so that his body was facing hers and thus taking his eyes off the same spot that he’d been staring at.

 

“Brilliantly,” Rose answered, a smile coming to her face at the thought of the city. “She is beautiful and so big. She’s easily the biggest city I’ve ever been to and that’s saying something when you travel with him.” She nodded her head to where the Doctor was now excitedly scanning the entire cell as though he’d found something useful.

 

“So what’s that like, if you don’t mind my asking?” Carson asked, his interest piqued at the mention of her travels with the Doctor.

 

“It’s magnificent,” Rose answered, thinking that that wasn’t an accurate enough word to describe it. “I mean, it’s dangerous most of the time and that one always seems to find himself in a bit of trouble, but it’s worth it, you know?”

 

“Oh, aye, I know.” Carson looked fondly at the rest of his team, his eyes briefly sweeping the expanse of the cell they were in as though to say that he knew _exactly_ how she felt. And she supposed he did.

 

“So,” Colonel Sheppard intoned, bringing any further small talk to a halt. He looked over at the Doctor who had ceased his scanning and was now semi-pacing the cell. “Any idea what to expect here?”

 

The Doctor stopped and stared down at the Colonel, his expression filled with vacant wonder. “I dunno. You lot have been captured more than I have by these beings, shouldn’t you know?”

 

“Yeah, we have,” The Colonel answered. “But we’ve never been invited to a hive ship by a queen so this is a bit new for us.”

 

Colonel Sheppard shifted and, though he tried to hide it, Rose saw him wince. With just listening to the man, you wouldn’t know that just a few days ago, he’d been mercilessly beaten by a being that was ten times stronger than him. It appeared that his personality persisted no matter what the situation was.

 

The swelling from his cut lip had disappeared entirely, though the cut obviously remained, and while the bruises on his face were still there, they had been reduced to rapidly fading from angry reds to ugly yellows. Rose briefly remembered his pre-mission examination the day before and that he’d somehow injured his side while fighting with Ronon, and it made her wonder if the man really should be on this mission at all. Then again, should Doctor Beckett? Things could easily go wrong and neither man is truly fit enough for that and yet here they are.

 

“Colonel,” Teyla said, drawing attention from the two leaders to herself. Her gaze remained fixed on the hall outside their cell as she said, “They are coming.”

 

No sooner had she said this then they heard the sounds of heavy footfalls. Ten drones were marching their way with another wraith – this one with long hair and a black leather trench-length coat – leading them. The different one, the leader more than likely, hissed at them, showing his disdain for their presence. The Doctor returned his hiss with a wide grin, almost as though just to make the other wraith mad.

 

The door to the cell opened and the drones immediately surrounded the exit. Their weapons were pointed at each and every member with two extra pointed at Ronon for good measure. The big man bared his teeth at them but stayed where he was, knowing better than to charge without a way of getting out of it.

 

“You will come with us,” the lead wraith commanded.

 

“Certainly,” the Doctor granted brightly. The group as a whole began to go through the door but were soon stopped by the wraith drones and their guns.

 

“Just you two,” the lead wraith amended, pointing at both Doctors.

 

The Atlanteans started forward to surround the two men, their instincts calling for them to protect them. As one, the drones fired their weapons, each blast hitting the Atlanteans. Rose made sure to stand off to the side, not drawing attention to herself or acting to stop the Doctor from leaving. It turns out that was a good idea since the drones, apparently deeming her not to be a threat, left her conscious.

 

Without another word, the lead wraith turned around and left. Both Doctors offered her smiles – Carson’s less assuring than he obviously meant it to be – and followed.

 

Rose watched as the drones surrounded the two men with trepidation. Her instincts were screaming at her to protect the Doctor and Carson but she knew that, against this enemy, she was useless – apparently she was even food – and so she did her best to fight it. It wasn’t easy, but the more distance that separated them and her, the better it became.

 

With a heavy sigh, she began to organize that Atlanteans so that they did not wake up in awkward positions and then sat down and waited for them to wake up.

 

Her eyes closed of their own volition but she did not sleep. Her mind and heart were with the two men that were on their way to meet with the wraith queen, Amara. She only hoped that things went as smoothly as the Doctor seemed to believe they would.

 

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX**

Major Evan Lorne sat on the balcony just off the mess hall, eating his breakfast of coffee, eggs, and sausage. Well, he was trying to get it all down. He honestly wasn’t all that hungry but he knew he’d need the fuel later on and so he kept trying.

 

At 1200 hours, he and his team were to go to PX3-525 and attempt at communicating with the species that inhabited the planet. Evan had no idea how they were supposed to accomplish that since when Colonel Sheppard and his team arrived they didn’t understand the language the species was speaking but that’s what his orders were and that’s what he was going to do.

 

Ever since Colonel Sheppard and his team had arrived in the gateroom in a big blue box and two mysterious visitors, things at Atlantis had gotten more exciting than was normal. And it wasn’t a bad kind of exciting, either. It wasn’t the stressed kind of impending doom that they were used to every other week it seemed. No, the atmosphere was filled with curiosity and wonder. After all, no one knew who the man calling himself the Doctor was, or what he was since it was obvious to some that he wasn’t human.

 

There were security risks, of course, with the newcomers – how _had_ the man managed to fly his machine into the gateroom without using the stargate? – but Evan was pretty sure that only the military was concerned with things like that. The scientific portion of Atlantis wanted to know everything they could about the two new people and some even wanted to test the doctor to make sure what they had been told was true. Doctor Weir had immediately put down that line of inquiry, threatening to send them to work with Colonel Caldwell and Doctor Kavanagh if they even tried it.

 

From the sound of non-stop chatter in the back of his mind, Evan guessed that Atlantis herself was excited as well. To say that it shocked Evan to learn that the big blue ship was not only a ship but a sentient one at that would be an understatement; it would be like saying the wraith were only dressed like space vampires for Halloween. But every once in a while he heard snippets of conversation sneaking through his connection with Atlantis and there was no doubt about the ship’s sentience. So, he’d spent the past few days with a constant headache save for when he was asleep.

 

Now, with the exception of the low hum that he’s come to know from Atlantis, things were quiet and Lorne was grateful. If only things would stay that way longer than a day.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The Doctor walked confidently behind the wraith commander with Doctor Beckett following hesitantly behind him. Despite how glum some of the team from Atlantis seemed to be, the Doctor felt no worries. He allowed his eyes to take in as much as he could while keeping a smile on his face. In truth, he was actually excited to be on the hive ship. He’d never been on one before and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on its systems.

 

While the thing was part machine, it was also composed out of organic material and the way the wraith had mixed the two was just beautiful to the time lord. No one made ships like this, except for that one time he, Rose and Mickey had run into Revolutionary France on a ship but that was a totally different situation to say the least. None of the organic material on this ship had been taking from a living being while every major part of that ship had been.

 

They were led into a wraith form of a conference room where the drones spread out, evenly spaced, along the circular wall, their weapons trained on the two men. Just ahead of them were two thrones, one more to the fore than the other, asserting its dominance over the other one. The wraith commander walked in front of the thrones and knelt and two drones roughly insured that the Doctor and Carson did the same. Carson must have resisted because the Doctor heard the man grunt as his drone had to be particularly rough with him. The Doctor understood the humans’ abhorrence to kneeling before these beings but the time lord had no such scruples.

 

Whereas the humans saw only monsters for what they did, the Doctor understood that, in truth, the wraith were no more monsters than the humans that ate meat. It was, essentially, the same principle.

 

They had been kneeling for only a few minutes when the Doctor heard the two wraith queens enter. He recognized Amara’s footsteps almost immediately, leaving him to assume the other one was the wraith queen that had beaten the Colonel.

 

“Bind their hands,” Amara commanded as soon as she’d walked in and from his position on the floor, the Doctor smiled. Apparently she wasn’t taking any chances with him. Smart girl.

 

Neither man fought against their guards as their arms were jerked behind their backs and bound with coarse, braided rope. After the task was finished, the drones pulled on their arms, pulling them off their knees to face the two queens. Out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor saw Carson swallow heavily and felt a small pang of guilt sweep through his veins. The Atlantean was scared – and with good reason – but not only that, he hadn’t wanted to even come. The Doctor knew that if anything happened to Carson, it was his fault. He just hoped that nothing did. But then, that wouldn’t be his luck, would it?

 

“So, Doctor, what is it you wished to speak with us about?” Amara asked, keeping her tone neutral, if not a bit amused at the situation.

 

“I want you to leave this planet and its people alone,” the Doctor stated, sounding for all the world like he was talking about getting a cuppa. During his declaration, he was speaking to the room at large, looking at them all as he spoke. Afterwards, he focused solely on Amara and his expression sobered into one of concerned sadness. “I can help you.” He paused and then though about it. “Weellll, actually he can help you,” he jerked his head over to Carson as he said this, “but you know what I mean.”

 

At this, Amara laughed. The sound was so cruel and cold that it sliced through the Doctor’s soul, leaving jagged shards in its wake.

 

“What could I possibly want from this thing other than a snack?” she asked, eyeing Carson as though he were nothing more than a chicken that had been wandering on her ship.

 

“How about to be human again?” the Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

The fire of laughter died instantly within Amara’s green eyes. She honed in on Carson, her expression morphing from that of a bird watching its prey to amusement to desire. None of them surprised the Doctor, including the desire. Once they figured out exactly how much Carson knew about their systems, their blood, and their feeding techniques and that he’d also had a hand in creating not one virus but two – both of which are deadly to the wraith in one form or another – they would all be gunning for him, wanting him to fix what he’d created.

 

Amara quickly wiped all expression from her features, save for a sneer that the Doctor knew didn’t mean anything good for them. She slowly got up from her chair and glided over to where he and Carson were standing. Making sure to draw blood, she ran a sharp-nailed finger down the side of the Doctor's face.

 

"And what makes you think that I would _ever_ want to be human again?" she asked, showing her revulsion to the idea by digging her nail in just a little bit more as she ran it down his neck. She hissed and then withdrew her hand, gliding back over to her throne.

 

Ignoring the blood trickling down the side of his face, the Doctor answered, "Because your food supply is dwindling far too fast for your needs."

 

"It is not dwindling," one of the wraith commanders declared from off to the side of the queens. "It has been tainted."

 

"And once we get our hands on the one who created that virus, all will be solved," the less dominant queen added, adding a hiss as though to punctuate what they would do with the person once they got a hold a them.

 

This statement made the Doctor uneasy. He knew that Carson had almost single-handedly created that virus. Not only that but he had also created the half wraith who had dispersed it throughout the galaxy, causing hundreds of thousands of deaths at the hands of the other wraith. He also knew that the doctor had created the virus that made all wraith turn human. He couldn't imagine what Amara and the other queen would do to the Scot should they find this out and nor did he want to.

 

Something of his thoughts must have shown in his expression -- either that or the doctor had unwillingly given himself away - as the Doctor watched Amara's eyes slowly slide over towards Carson, an unpleasant gleam within them. Her lip curled back in a feral sneer and both doctors knew things were over.

 

"Well," the Doctor said, adding cheer into his voice, smiling when he saw a couple wraith cringe at it. He wriggled a bit, making a show of being uncomfortable in the bonds - which wasn't too hard since he _was_ uncomfortable - in order to hide what he was really doing. "I can't say I'm surprised at your refusal but I had hoped that you would have taken me up on my offer."

 

Amara looked amused at his statement but the other wraith queen hissed her displeasure at his statement. "Is that supposed to be a threat?" she asked, her anger palpable as she tried to invade his mind.

 

The Doctor blocked the assault easily, smiling at the wraith. Beside him, Carson hissed quietly, making the Doctor briefly turn his attention to the man. Even from his peripheral, the time lord could see Carson's eyes were scrunching in pain. The older queen hissed as Carson obviously fought her attack.

 

What she wanted from the Scot, the Doctor didn't know; it was, after all, possible that she didn't want anything, she just wanted to hurt him. But neither did he really care. Without thinking or showing any effort, he extended the shield over his mind towards Carson, watching as the burden of fighting slowly eased from the man's face.

 

The wraith queen hissed and soon the Doctor's vision exploded into stars and dots. He groaned when pain soon greeted the constellations, pounding through his right cheek.

 

"Was that really necessary?" the Doctor grumbled, abhorring violence. He looked over at Carson, giving him a slight nod of warning as well as assuring him that things were alright. The doctor's blue eyes widened marginally, but it was in his expression that the Doctor saw that he was scared but also angry.

 

Another smack had him wishing that he could, just once, shut up when it was wise to do so. Unfortunately, it wasn't in the Doctor's personality to do that and so he found himself saying, "Oi! Is it really necessary? Have you lot every tried just asking a question without threat when you want something?"

 

The wraith commander sneered and raised his hand to smack him again.

 

"Stop!" Carson inserted, struggling within the grasp of a drone who had apparently come up to hold the doctor back when he'd started to interfere earlier.

 

Amara rose an eyebrow - or what would have been an eyebrow if she'd still had them. She sneered again - seriously? doesn't she remember any other expression - and then glided over to the Scot.

 

"And what are you going to do, little one?" she taunted, running her feeding hand all over Carson. She started at his chest, her threat blatant before she moved on, running her hands over his shoulders and down his back as she stalked around him in a circle. "You are nothing more than my next meal."

 

At this, she pulled back her hand, poised to feed of Carson.

 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the Doctor warned. He looked at his previous companion in all seriousness, inwardly smirking at Rose's eye roll earlier when he'd begun scanning anything and everything. _"See Rose, there's always a good reason why I do what I do."_

 

Amara hissed at the intrusion, but dropped her hand and stared at the Doctor. "Do tell me, Doctor. Why should I spare this thing's life?"

 

"Because you value your own," the Doctor replied. He rose an eyebrow at her, silently challenging her to continue, knowing that she wouldn't; not with that kind of threat.

 

The Doctor watched as Carson's expression twisted from fearful defiance to curiosity only for his eyes to marginally widen in comprehension.

 

In a flash, Amara was in front of him, bombarding him with one command, "Explain."

 

"Happy to," the Doctor obliged with a wide smile. He quickly became more serious as he added, "Once you let the Gabrihath, the Atlanteans, and Rose go."

 

Amara chuckled, telling him she in no way planned to comply.

 

"You know," she said as she walked back over to Carson. "There are other ways to kill; I don't have to feed." She reached out and wrapped her hand around Carson's neck, slowly tightening. "Shall I crush his windpipe?" she asked, giving the Doctor a cruel smile. Her suffocating grip loosened but it provided the Doctor with little comfort as almost immediately, Carson began grunting in obvious pain. His grunts soon became hisses which then transformed into little whimpers. "Or shall I break his brilliant mind into shards of glass?"

 

The Doctor knew that he could no longer attempt to reason with his former companion. He wriggled a little, loosening his jacket sleeves as he said, "Actually, I'd prefer neither."

 

And with that all hell proceeded to break loose.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

In the cell, Rose patiently waited the other occupants to wake. The first to do so was, unsurprisingly, Ronon. He grunted and came awake swinging. Thankfully Rose hadn't even tried of stirring any of them, otherwise she would have quite the spectacular bruise and a monster headache at the mo'. The big man settled down almost immediately after waking. He looked around at his friends and then proceeded to wait for the rest to wake, apparently content that they were all unharmed.

 

Teyla and the Colonel woke soon after, each coming awake almost at the same time as the other. The Colonel groaned and Rose winced in sympathy. No doubt the fall hadn't done his injured side any favors but she made no sound. Rose somehow knew that the group as a whole were used to this and therefore patiently waited for each of them to grab their bearings.

 

Doctor McKay was the last to awake and he made the biggest fuss of them all. He started with a loud groan, complaining about how he wished they'd stop doing that because there's no way it's good for his nerves to get stunned so many times and oh, how much his back hurt, and then whining because he'd gotten a small bruise from falling. For the most part his friends endured this with eye rolls and indulgent smiles to one another. Rose just blocked him out, slowly getting used to his grating voice and annoying complaints.

 

"Everyone okay?" the Colonel asked once they were all awake. He looked around at the group, but for the most part his gaze was focused on Rose since he hadn't a clue what had happened to her while they were all unconscious.

 

There was a general murmur 'fine' that swept around the cell with Rose offering the military man a smile, assuring him that she, too, was fine. He nodded, satisfied and then slowly eased to a standing position.

 

"McKay, any ideas how to get out?"

 

"In case you've forgotten, Colonel, we are going to get out of here," the physicist snarkily reminded him. There was doubt in his tone that belied the assurance of his words and it made Rose want to snap at the man for doubting the Doctor. It was, after all, the time lord's plan to release them - they just had no idea when.

 

The Colonel seemed to take a breath for patience before retorting, "Yeah, I meant sooner than that."

 

"Why is it that every time we're in trouble, you all look to me?" Rodney griped.

 

"You are the resident genius," the Colonel sarcastically answered.

 

"As you keep reminding us," Ronon added, his voice rumbling in his chest.

 

"Excuse me, but I think the last time we were captured on a wraith hive ship, it was actually Ronon that got us out, not me," Rodney returned. His eyes marginally widened when he realized that he just admitted that he was not as good as he thought he was but he didn't - wisely - add anything afterwards.

 

The Colonel turned to his bigger friend. "Chewie, ya got anything?"

 

"They searched me thoroughly this time, Sheppard," Ronon answered, sounding annoyed.

 

"How'd you get out last time?" Rose asked, not like not knowing what was going on.

 

"Ronon managed to find some knives in his hair that he used to free us," Teyla answered. Her tone was even but there was something within the words that said she was fighting a smile at the memory.

 

"Hang on, wasn't the last time we were on a wraith ship was when Teyla went undercover as a queen?" the Colonel asked, pointing a finger at the woman.

 

"You're right," Rodney granted. He looked over at Teyla. "So, ya got any ideas?"

 

"I am sorry, but I do not," she answered.

 

Silence soon filled the air as the group quieted down to contemplate what their next move should be. Rose remained quiet, knowing that any idea she would ever have included the Doctor who was currently unavailable to help.

 

Her mind wandered to wherever he was while the others though. She hoped he was alright; him and Doctor Beckett. She knew that the Doctor heavily planned on Amara seeing reason but Rose somehow doubted that the queen would. That knowledge produced a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had discovered long ago to be worry. Going by what the Doctor and Colonel Sheppard - more so the Colonel than the time lord - had revealed during the debriefing with Doctor Weir, Amara had a bone to pick with the Doctor and - if the Atlantean's past stories were to go by - the queen would make sure to make it as painful as possible for Rose's friend.

 

While her mind wandered, she heard the Atlanteans talking in the background but she didn't care to focus on it until there was more action involved with the chatter. They were having an argument - about what, Rose had no idea - and for a second it seemed that the Colonel would haul off and hit Doctor McKay. But he abstained and soon the room grew uncomfortably quiet again.

 

Just when Rose feared that they would never get out of here, the cell door swished open, surprising all of them.

 

"It worked," Doctor McKay said, shocked.

 

"Of course it did you git," Rose answered, her patience almost at an end from the strain of her worry.

 

"I'm sorry if I don’t have the same unfailing loyalty to a complete stranger like you do," the scientist snapped, not taking too kindly to her insult.

 

"He's not a stranger," Rose defended.

 

"He was when you first met him," Ronon interjected, reminding her that she had told them how she and the Doctor had met. Unlike Doctor McKay, however, his voice held no judgment and she smiled at him, knowing that she would never be able to explain why she'd trusted the Doctor so implicitly right off the bat.

 

"Can we continue this later?" the Colonel asked, drawing everyone's attention towards himself. He stepped into the hall, checking for possible guards with Teyla and Ronon following immediately to flank and protect him.

 

Without bothering to wait for the scientist, Rose followed, leaving Doctor McKay to bring up the rear which he clearly didn't appreciate. Once the group was confident that their escape had gone unnoticed for the moment, they moved on, swiftly fleeing towards safety.

 

It amazed how well the team as a whole seemed to know where they were going without a map to guide them. Exactly how often do they get captured? They stopped abruptly as the Colonel raised his arm, his fist closed, and they crouched down against the wall, hoping to blend in with it.

 

Four wraith drones passed them by, not yet aware that they were not where they were supposed to be, and the group silently sighed in relief. After another couple minutes of travel, they came to a door that looked much like every wall on the ship.

 

"Rodney," the Colonel said, pointing towards the console to the left of the door.

 

"Yes, yes, fine," the physicist snapped. He moodily walked over to it and began pressing random buttons - well, at least it looked random to rose. Before long the doors to the room swished open and the group entered.

 

Those that were used to fighting - meaning Ronon, Teyla, and the Colonel - immediately went into battle mode. They ducked to avoid being stunned and pounced on the two wraith guarding the room. The Colonel and Ronon - with help from Teyla - snapped the necks of their opponents before Rose and Doctor McKay had done much more than duck the stunning blasts that headed their way.

 

Once the fight was over, the Atlanteans went over to where their weapons and vests had been stored and quickly adorned them.

 

"Now, remember," the Colonel said as he strapped the vest to his chest and pulled his pistol from the ground. He placed it in a holster that was connected to his vest. "Any wraith comes at you, stun them. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves yet."

 

"And what if that doesn't do any good?" Doctor McKay asked and for once Rose was grateful for his worry as she knew that neither she nor Doctor McKay were good shots.

 

"That's what the retrovirus is for," Ronon answered, flipping his - gun? taser? stunner? - around in his hand before stowing it within the folds of his clothing.

 

"Fantastic," Doctor Mckay answered, apparently not liking the answer.

 

"Rodney, one of us will be with you, it's not like you have to worry about it," the Colonel said, his tone a mixture of assurance and that of one talking to a slow child. He barely gave time for his words to register with his friend before he smiled and then went back out in to the hallway to check and make sure they were good to go.

 

"Okay, coast is clear," he confirmed, stepping back into the room and looking at the team. "Everyone clear on what they were doing?"

 

The group nodded, albeit some looking rather more nervous than others. Still, Rose trusted the Doctor and she trusted - well, hoped really - that his plan would work. Adrenaline started to pump through her veins and soon she felt her courage begin to rise as her fear began to disappear.

 

"Right," the Colonel said, nodding his head. "Let's go."

 

**TBC**

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X**

The group parted ways, separating into their designated groups as they each went on their own part of the mission.

 

The Colonel went off on his own, something most of the group was _not_ happy about. Ronon and Teyla kept their reservations to themselves, however, leaving Rodney to express – during the planning meeting – how bad of an idea it was to let Sheppard loose on the hive ship by himself. Doctors Weir and Beckett then proceeded to remind him that the Colonel would not be alone for long since it was his job to grab the Doctor and Carson and leave. Even still, they all – except perhaps sans for the Doctor – knew that his part of the plan was the most dangerous one.

 

Teyla went with Doctor McKay, escorting him throughout the hive ship to do what it was he was supposed to be doing. The scientist cast an almost longing at Ronon, who was paired with Rose, but soon started heading off into the bowels of the ship, leaving Rose and Ronon to head in the complete opposite direction of the other three.

 

Swallowing her trepidation at moving through an unknown ship where countless enemies wait, Rose followed as the big man proceeded to move swiftly through the halls. Again, it seemed that he knew where he was going so she blindly followed, trusting him not to get them lost. Their part of the plan had to happen without a hitch, otherwise it could be disastrous for more than just themselves.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Doctor Elizabeth Weir stood by the main console in the gateroom. Her office stood just off to her left, the work within it beckoning her to come and finish it but she just couldn’t.

 

It was the same every time a team – particularly John’s team – went off world. She would sit in her office and pretend to work but really she was just keeping close in case – or in SGA1’s case, when – she was needed because of one emergency or another. She often felt a bit like an overprotective mother whose children had just gone off to war but then again, that description couldn’t have been more accurate half the time since she _was_ responsible for those under her command.

 

She already had three quarters the infirmary staff on stand-by just in case – oh who is she kidding; not if, when – they were needed. Doctor Porter had assured her that she would have everything covered and had busily begun to snap orders at all of them, telling them what to stock up on and how to rearrange a few things so they could accommodate a large number of patients in time of crisis.

 

Meanwhile, Major Lorne and his team along with Sergeant Mendez and his team were currently below the gateroom, somewhere, suiting up. The Major had been tasked with talking to the inhabitants of the world while the Sergeant had been told to get ready to make a distraction.

 

While the Sergeant had grinned maniacally at the prospect of being told to blow things up and shoot at people, the Major had struggled to hide his displeasure at being told to act as mediator. Elizabeth knew that it wasn’t the aspect of talking to another species that Lorne dreaded, it was the fact that said species didn’t seem to understand a word of English and the Atlanteans didn’t understand the inhabitants’ language. She felt a little sorry for Lorne. Should the Doctor’s plan not work, the man was essentially left with trying to mime whatever he wanted to say and hoping that those he was meeting with understand what he was trying to convey.

 

At 12:00 hours precisely, both teams filed into the gateroom. If there was one thing you could count on, it was military men being on time. Elizabeth looked down at the teams, waiting until both leaders looked back at her and gave her nods.

 

“Dial the gate,” she said, briefly turning to Chuck whom she was addressing.

 

While the technician did as instructed she looked back down at the teams. “Be careful, all of you,” she instructed. “I would like not to have our infirmary pushed to capacity when all three teams come back.”

 

Lorne and Mendez both nodded, offering smiles of understanding.

 

“Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll be fine. It’s Colonel Sheppard and his team that you should worry about,” Lorne said just as the gate locked. “They’re the ones in the lion’s den.”

 

The wormhole filled the gate, filling the gateroom with watery blue light. Without another word, the two teams walked through it, transporting themselves onto the planet light years away. They waited for confirmation from Lorne that everyone had made it and that so far things were quiet before shutting down the gate.

 

As Lorne’s assurances of prompt check-in’s traveled through her ears, Elizabeth wondered if this was the mission that finally gave her the ulcer she was sure she was working on. She’d have to talk to Carson when he came back. Providing he was in one piece.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Carson trembled as pain seared its way through his brain, lighting it on fire. The queen’s voice echoed throughout his mind, pummeling him with questions about who he was and demanding to know why she shouldn’t just feed on him. Despite the pain, Carson fought against her, only serving to bring on more as she channeled all her rage into breaking him.

 

A whimper escaped through his mouth and somewhere in the back of his mind, Carson knew that he would be mortified in any other circumstances but right now, he just couldn’t bring himself to care. Honestly, Carson was surprised he wasn’t screaming right now. Though, now that he thought of it that was probably because he physically couldn’t thanks to the queen attempting to strangle him.

 

When she wasn’t getting any answers, the queen bombarded him again, the pain washing against him like a rough wave crashing against a rock wall.

 

 _You will tell me what I want to know,_ the queen promised, briefly reminding him of Michael.

 

 _No I bloody well will not,_ Carson threw back at her, gritting his teeth as he was dropped to his knees by another wave.

 

_Oh but you will, little one. Even if I have to destroy everything that you care about before finally drawing the last breath from your body._

_Ya cannae get to everything that I love,_ Carson argued, the pain lessening as he took pleasure in knowing that at least was true. It wasn’t until she spoke again that he knew just how wrong he was.

 

 _You forget that I was a companion of the Doctor,_ the queen taunted. _Do you know what planet the Doctor loves to visit the most?_

_No!_ Carson’s heart stopped, knowing exactly where she was going with this.

 

_That’s right. I know where Earth is. And while I have been keeping that information to myself, I will no longer do so unless you tell me everything. I believe your mother is still alive, is she not? Because believe me, she will be the first one I visit after I lead my family there._

Another whimper was torn from Carson’s abused throat. But whereas the last one was from the pain in his head, this one came from the pain in his heart as his memory shot pictures of his beloved mum being fed upon by the wraith. Suddenly, that wasn’t enough torture. The pictures began to turn to video, showing her dying from a feeding but being given back her youth only to have it cruelly sucked out of her again and again and again.

 

Anger welled inside Carson, somewhat dimming the queen’s attack as it fought against her.

 

Being a doctor, Carson was not a violent man by nature. True, he’d grown up with several older brothers and therefore had learned at an early age how to win a fight, but if there was a chance to avoid fighting in the first place, he took it. At the threat of his mum, however, Carson had the strong desire to inject the Hoffan virus into this queen and watch in pleasure as she died horribly and painfully.

 

 _Steady on, now,_ a new voice soothed, startling Carson. At once, the pain all but ceased and the queen’s voice within his head died instantly. Carson looked over at the Doctor, realizing – albeit not believing – what had happened.

 

The Doctor lifted his chin, his solemn face expressing a promise that now rattled around inside Carson’s aching head.

 

_She won’t ever reach Earth. I promise you that._

No sooner had those words entered his mind then chaos erupted around them.

 

An alarm suddenly started blaring, alerting the wraith that something was amiss and Carson knew exactly what it was. Before the wraith within the room could react, a high pitched, painful whir sounded through the room. Everyone except the Doctor covered their ears to drown out the sound. It certainly didn’t help his headache but Carson waited for it to stop, knowing that it was serving as merely a distraction.

 

Without waiting another second, the Doctor struggled out of his bonds and then proceeded to undo Carson’s. The Scot winced at the sight of the time lord’s abraded, bruised and bloodied wrists but now was not the time for medical care and so said nothing about it as his own abused wrists were released.

 

The ropes fell to the floor and not bothering to wait for an invitation, both men ran. The Doctor took the lead, whirring the device in his hand at whatever machinery he passed as he did. Behind them, Carson heard the wraith queens yell, the noise sounding like a wraith version of a call to arms more than anything and the Scot knew they didn’t have long before an entire hive ship of drones and commanders bore down on their position.

 

Gas and smoke filled the hallway as poison filled the air. It wafted harmlessly over the pair as they continued to flee for their lives, waiting for the real prey to come before it attacked. Carson watched as the Doctor looked around, his device now scanning the air around them and though Carson didn’t know precisely _what_ had happened, he knew what the smoke was and he felt guilt drop into his stomach like a molten-hot stone. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t altered the plan to include this – that he suspected fell to Colonel Sheppard – it was _his_ virus that now filled the air.

 

A stunning blast flew past Carson’s head, making him jerk to the right to avoid it. He stepped wrongly, he knew that right away, but he didn’t have time to ponder what that meant for his physical health. Whatever it was, he knew it was nothing compared to what the wraith would do to him if they caught him and so he kept running.

 

“It’s a shame I have to do this,” the Doctor began chatting, sounding barely out of breath as he jogged up ahead. “This is really quite a fantastic ship. I’ve never really seen anything like it.”

 

For a moment Carson wondered what the Doctor was talking about but then he remembered that injecting the Hoffan plague into the wraith’s computer systems – thus corrupting them and destroying the ship in some way that Carson wasn’t sure he understood – had been the Doctor’s original plan.

 

A shot like that of a laser stopped him dead for a second as it passed centimeters in front of his chest. But before Carson had a chance to try and catch his breath, the alien was off running again and Carson went with him.

 

“Well, there are others like this in the galaxy, aren’t there? I mean, the wraith outnumber you lot thirty to one, but I don’t suppose they’ll willingly let me on one; not after word of this meeting gets out.”

 

“A meeting?” Carson huffed, wincing when it hurt his throat to talk. Honestly, he would be greatly surprised if the Doctor heard him but he had to ask. His side started to burn as the muscles began to cramp, voicing their displeasure at the exercise. “Is tha’ wha’ ya call this?”

 

“Weell, compared to some of my other peace treaty meetings, this one’s quite calm,” the Doctor answered, sounding like he was taking a stroll and not being hunted like an animal.

 

A hallway to their right appeared and the pair turned down it, taking a sharp left immediately afterwards. They came to a very abrupt and painful halt as the Doctor ran into someone. Not having expected the Doctor to stop, Carson toppled onto the pair of people, earning an ‘oof’ from both beings and a pained grunt from the person on the bottom.

 

“Colonel!” the Doctor greeted, having worked out who he was on top of before Carson had had a chance to try and breathe. “I thought we were going to meet you in the dart bay?”

 

Carson rolled off so that all three of them could get off the floor and start moving again. He winced when he put weight on his right foot but other than that he paid no mind to the injury as he listened to the other two while trying to get much needed oxygen to his strained lungs.

 

“I heard the alarms go off and thought I’d meet ya halfway,” the Colonel answered. Out of the corner of his eye, Carson saw John wince and he immediately filed it away as things to look into once this whole fiasco was over.

 

Smoke began wafting towards them as the poison in the air began to drift their way. It wasn’t that, however, that got them moving; it was the stunner blasts mixed with laser blasts that had begun to fly past their heads that did.

 

The Doctor cried out as a laser blast caught him on his left thigh. The time lord collapsed almost instantly as the leg gave out from under him and Carson immediately grabbed the fallen man, hauling him to his feet and half carrying his weight as they kept running.

 

“Well this is fun, isn’t it?” John retorted he dodged just in time to avoid receiving a laser blast through the chest. Apparently the wraith were no longer concerned with subduing them; they were shooting to kill now.

 

The trio ground to a halt before they slammed into the shut door of the dart bay. Carson wanted nothing more than to release the Doctor and check on his wound but the laser shots weren’t stopping thus keeping his adrenaline flowing and his fight or flight instincts running high.

 

“Get that open, Doctor, I’ll provide cover,” John instructed, moving to step in front of the two doctors.

 

Carson helped the alien over to the control panel, letting go only once he knew the man wouldn’t fall over. While the Doctor worked, a grunt drew his attention to John in time to see him favoring his right arm. He’d been hit, of that Carson was sure. Without hesitation, Carson stepped forward and grabbed the gun that had fallen from the Colonel’s hands as his muscles lost their grip. Carson had no idea where any of them were, but at this moment he didn’t bloody care. He fired without thought of aim, surprised whenever he heard a thump as a wraith dropped.

 

A cold wind on his back told him that the Doctor had gotten the doors open and so he began retreating.

 

“Colonel, grab the Doctor and go,” Carson commanded in as loud a voice as his abused throat could manage. He was running on pure adrenaline now, Carson knew that. But what he truly wanted to know was just how much time had he been spending with the military men of Atlantis to be suddenly issuing orders. Sure in the medical field, that made perfect sense but not in this situation.

 

A laser blast caught him on the side and Carson grunted, his body beginning to curl around the injury in hopes of protecting itself from further harm. The Scot fired one last shot in the general direction of where the blast had come from. By now his adrenaline was fading quickly and his hand had begun to shake so he doubted that his aim was particularly steady. He just hoped it was enough to get the rest of them through the doors without further injury.

 

A hand grabbed the back of his neck and for a second Carson panicked. It wasn’t until he was pulled into the dart bay that he realized that the hand belonged to John. The doors closed and the Doctor, leaning on the console and wall for support, began to type furiously on the screen.

 

“Well,” the Doctor said once he was done. He offered the two Atlanteans a grin, barely hiding the pain in his eyes as the fire from smile spread to them. “That was fun.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

PX3-525 had gotten considerably colder since the last time Lorne and his men had come to the planet. He shivered as frigid wind bore down on them with the fury of a winter storm on the horizon.

 

The wormhole stayed open long enough for everyone to get through and for Evan to confirm that all was well and that they’d check in regularly then it shut off, letting more wind sweep cruelly through it.

 

A rustling in the foliage just to their right drew the group’s attention instantly. Evan cursed how out in the open they were. It meant that no matter who came through the forest – enemy or ally – they were exposed. It if was an ally, that was no big deal, but if it was an enemy or an unknown, they would have to fight just to get to cover and by then that may not be enough.

 

Lorne’s heart sunk and his adrenaline rose when four drones entered the clearing. The Atlanteans wasted no time in firing on them, not bothering to care if the noise drew others.

 

Lieutenant Andrews from Mendez’s team was one of the first to be taken down by the wraith stunners; his team quickly merged to cover him, allowing one of their other comrades to pull him out of harm’s way until he was conscious again. In response, Mendez’s team fired several shots into the offending wraith, defining the word overkill.

 

Whether they guessed that the Atlanteans weren’t going to be taken alive or they just didn’t care, the wraith switched their stunning blasts to the lasers. Evan still couldn’t believe that the wraith had developed their guns so that they were more like Ronon’s. The only difference between theirs and the Satedan’s was that Ronon’s either stunned or killed; the wraith’s injured so they could still feed if they chose.

 

A gust of air flying past Evan’s cheek seared with heat let him know that he’d narrowly missed having his face permanently scarred. He growled his displeasure and turned around and fired at the closest wraith he could get, joining his teammates in redefining the dictionary.

 

The wraith went down quickly after that but not before they fired as many shots at the Atlanteans as they could. Most of the shots went wide but a few actually hit their targets. Two grunts pulled Evan’s attention to his left where one of Mendez’s men got caught in his side and where one of Evan’s own got grazed on his leg. Neither wounds were deep but they served their purpose in distracting Evan so that he didn’t notice the laser blast coming at him.

 

While Evan took a moment to check on the two men that had been hit, he felt someone shove him to the right just before hot pain seared through his shoulder. Instinctively, he knew that had it not been for the shove, the blast would have hit him square in the chest, effectively killing him. As it was, it burrowed through the meaty portion of his shoulder instead. Though he was bleeding profusely and there was pain with every movement he made with his arm, it _was_ still usable and so Evan thanked whatever deity reigned in these parts for that.

 

“Are you alright, sir?”

 

Concerned green eyes peered down at Evan, thick, dirty-blond eyebrows wrinkled to complete the expression. Without really waiting for an answer, Sergeant Monroe held out a hand to help Evan up.

 

“Other than the whole in my shoulder, I’m fine, Sergeant, thanks,” Evan answered, offering a smile-turned-grimace of assurance.

 

At over six feet, Monroe easily stood out above the crowd. His lithe body leant a welcome flexibility when it came to making quick actions. Evan easily guessed that it had been him that had pushed him out of the way, saving him from receiving the full blast.

 

“We should patch that up,” Monroe said. His fingers fidgeted with the pocket on his TAC vest that held what meager medical supplies Beckett could pack as though to start doing just that. Evan wondered if the man had originally started training to be medical personnel in the military but had been moved out of necessity.

 

“Not now,” Evan countered, stopping the man. “Dial Atlantis and tell them that we’re gonna need another team for good measure. While the wormhole is established, send the critically injured back as well and then meet us thirty klicks northeast of here.”

 

“Yessir!” Monroe answered. When Evan and his batch of newest additions to the Pegasus galaxy had first arrived, they’d saluted every time as they’d been trained to. Less than a week after arriving, they quickly learned that the Lt. Colonel didn’t care about that, preferring sharp nods instead and so had adapted to doing that instead. The Sergeant offered one such head nod instead of a salute and jogged off to do what he was told.

 

“Mendez! Get your men together and go thirty klicks southeast of here,” Evan commanded. He grimaced when he moved his wounded arm, quickly dropping it and holding it against his side.

 

“Yes sir!” Mendez shouted, already organizing his men, sending the wounded and stunned with Monroe and then ordering the rest to their given position. “Where will you be, sir?”

 

“We’re going parallel to you,” Evan answered, pointing with his head to the opposite side. He watched as Monroe dialed the gate before turning his attention back to his 2IC.

 

“You’re thinking if we surround these bastards, we’ll have a better chance at defending ourselves?” Mendez asked, his sharp mind processing the strategy with his.

 

“That’s the idea,” Evan answered. Honestly, their chances of that going as smoothly as it sounded weren’t good but it was better than nothing. “Keep in radio contact,” he added, though he doubted it actually needed to be said. “If things go wrong in the sky, we’ll need to be ready to adapt.”

 

Mendez crisply nodded and then jogged to catch up to those men who had already started heading towards their designated position.

 

“Do you really think things will go wrong with Colonel Sheppard, sir?” Monroe asked, coming up behind him after having finished his task.

 

“It’s Colonel Sheppard, Sergeant,” Evan answered with a small smile. “Nothing ever goes right when he’s involved.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Teyla stalked the hallways of the hive ship, making sure to keep a sharp eye on the shadows in case they weren’t empty. Her heart raced with adrenaline and fear but years of meditation helped her to control her emotions rather than giving in. Rodney hadn’t stopped nervously chattering since they’d parted with John and Ronon, despite her telling him several times to be quiet. The last thing either of them wanted was to draw attention to themselves or their task.

 

The alarm announcing their escape sounded far before they had reached their destination and so Teyla hurried their progress. The quickened pace made Rodney breathe harder which made him become quieter – relatively – but that was currently the last thing on Teyla’s mind. Since they were found out, it no longer mattered if they drew attention to themselves.

 

Each one of them had been given a specific task to accomplish. John’s was relatively easy; find the being known as the Doctor and Carson and escape with them down to the planet. Ronon and the girl named Rose were to take the Doctor’s ship down to the planet and help Major Lorne with preparing the inhabitants – now named the Gabrihath – for battle. John, the Doctor, and Carson were to join them once they were able, creating a stronger front for the wraith that remained on the planet.

 

She and Rodney had the most important section of the plan. If they did not finish their task, the entire plan went into ruin. While Teyla and her team – and the Doctor and Rose, it would seem – were certainly good at improvising, the days previous to this mission had been long and Teyla did not wish to prolong this mission any more than it needed to be.

 

“Hurry Rodney,” she called when she reached the console ahead of him.

 

“Yes, yes,” Rodney snapped, panting heavily. “Not all of us were raised to be warriors, you know.”

 

Despite his complaints, he quickened his pace and soon reached the console. After entering a code – unknown to her – the door swished open, admitting them into a lab. Inside was a large cavern with four separate consoles spread in a half circle, each with wraith symbols that ran in repeated patterns across the screens.

 

“Place these into the slots to your right,” Rodney commanded, handing her two vials of clear liquid. One contained the retrovirus that they were to spread throughout the ship. The other contained the plague developed on Hoff which was to serve to corrupt their systems; though how, Teyla wasn’t sure.

 

During the meeting where they had planned all this out, the Doctor had attempted to explain how his plan would work. But Teyla feared that he hadn’t been all too clear since he tended to talk more than was necessary. She suspected that he did that for a reason – so as to keep the truth from them without appearing to do so – but she could not prove it since she did not know him that well.

 

Doing as she was told, she turned around and inserted the vials, her expression never wavering from neutral despite her mind wincing when they made a squishing sound. She could not explain why but the sound always bothered her.

 

“Are they in?” Rodney asked, impatient for confirmation.

 

“Yes, Rodney, they are,” Teyla answered with patience for her abrasive friend.

 

Without answering, he inserted an adapter which translated the information on the wraith computers to the small one in his hands in something he could actually read. The data pad beeped and Rodney automatically began pounding the screen, his fingers hitting the glass almost furiously though she knew that was just the way he treated the machinery.

 

A stunning blast swished between them, breaking their illusion of peace. Without hesitation, Teyla returned fire. Instead of aiming for the drone’s chests, she aimed for the more exposed parts of their bodies. She knew that a being could just as easily die from a wound to the stomach as they could from one to the head or chest.

 

Two wraith went down but three more replaced them and Teyla began to feel herself becoming overwhelmed with their numbers. She avoided being stunned so far but she could not keep the pace of avoidance while protecting the prone Rodney for much longer.

 

“Rodney, please hurry,” she said as the energy from a stunning blast grazed her arm.

 

“I’m sorry that I am not moving at a faster pace but it’s not like there’s a manual on how to disable a wraith ship while killing all the wraith inside. It takes time to figure out the right paths to take!” Rodney snapped.

 

Apparently sensing weakness, the wraith advanced. The white of their stunners changed to a green and Teyla began to feel her worry increase. She’d listened with shock as the Doctor and John had explained that they wraith had adapted their guns to not only stun but maim and possibly kill. It sounded like such an un-wraith thing to do that Teyla had trouble believing it possible. As she knocked herself and Rodney to the ground just in time for them both to miss being gravely injured by a shot of the green light, she no longer had misgivings about the information she’d been given.

 

“I believe that it is time to go whether you are done or not,” Teyla said, moving them both to a more defendable position.

 

“Just give me a minute,” Rodney said, refusing to leave. His data pad beeped again and this time a thick fog began to seep out of the walls.

 

Teyla watched as the wraith that had begun to flank the one and only door began to choke and cough before falling unconscious onto the floor. The Doctor’s plan had worked but they were far from out of danger.

 

Still, it seemed that Rodney did not understand that as he once again went over to the console and began working some more. Teyla kept a sharp eye on the wraith on the floor almost at their feet while he worked. It wasn’t long before the data pad beeped again and this time Rodney announced, “Done.”

 

“Good,” Teyla acknowledged with a small nod. “I believe it is time that we meet up with John and the others.”

 

Rodney gave a heavy sigh and leaned forward on his knees, his chest heaving. Apparently he had not had sufficient time to recover his breath but as Teyla could do nothing about that, she ignored it. She rose an eyebrow at her friend, challenging him to try and stay behind and he sighed again. “Fine, let’s go.”

 

Teyla didn’t say anything as she turned around and began to step around the wraith on the floor. Together, they entered the halls, disappearing into the red, pink, black and purple hues of the hive ship to meet up with their friends and commander.

 

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter XI**

The Doctor watched as the smoke slowly slid under the door, entering the dart bay with ease. He hadn’t realized until now that he had been wondering what the smoke was and why it hadn’t been harder to get away. Now that his body wasn’t quite so preoccupied with getting to safety, however, his mind was free to run through everything, puzzling it out.

 

Once the wraith had been pleasantly distracted by his sonic, the Doctor had taken the opportunity to wriggle out of the ropes. He was thankful for his small physique because it meant that he didn’t have as hard a time getting out of them as one might think the Colonel or the big guy – Ronon – would. Still, it wasn’t without pain and a bit of blood but he kept that to himself. While he was freeing Carson, he noticed the Scot looking down at his wrists and for a moment the Doctor thought that the Scot would attempt to examine them. But apparently Carson had been in these kinds of situations enough to know when the proper time for medical care was and knew enough to know that this was not it.

 

The pair were off running before the wraith had time to discern what had happened and they didn’t look back. Not long after, the Doctor heard Amara announce that they were free and he felt a shiver run through his spine at the mere thought of the Amara he knew being able to do that. It wasn’t right. No less than a minute later, smoke started filling the hallways.

 

It was a curious thing to see as the Doctor didn’t have a clue where it was coming from. He put his hand in the air and activated the sonic, catching readings before he pocketed his beloved device and kept running. Carson’s breath behind him began to get more and more labored and the Doctor wondered if they’d have to find somewhere to hide for a few minutes before joining the Colonel in the dart bay. The following stunning blasts soon drove that thought out of his mind, however, and they both kept running.

 

All throughout their flight, the timelord kept hearing sounds of pain and strain coming from the doctor behind him and it made his hearts pound with sympathy to know that he couldn’t do anything to ease the toll it was taking on the Atlantean. Only once they were – relatively – safe within the dart bay did he notice just how tired he was as well and it annoyed him. He was a time lord, after all, he wasn’t supposed to get tired this easily. He supposed that the blood loss – though small in comparison to lethal wounds – combined with the physical strain the day had put on his body were catching up to him, but that knowledge didn’t make him feel any better.

 

Boy, he really _was_ getting old.

Whipping out his sonic, the Doctor waved it around the air, focusing mostly on the smoke that accumulated by the door since it seemed to dissipate once it got further into the room. Something about the way the humans weren’t reacting to it made him suspect that they knew exactly what it was and so he wanted to find out as well.

 

Overall, there wasn’t much difference between the molecules that were naturally in the air and the molecules in the smoke. There were a few additions in the smoke but it was barely noticeable. It was in how they were arranged that made the smoke molecules more dangerous. As he suspected, nothing in the way the smoke molecules were set up and reacting to everything was harmful to the humans or himself. Going by what he knew of the Wraith, however, he knew that it completely changed the molecular and genetic make-up.

 

And then it hit him.

 

This was the retrovirus that Doctor Beckett had developed and used – twice and with limited success – on the wraith named Michael.

 

He supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised. He’d known and helped plan the action. As with most other times, he had talked more than he had listened so chances were he had agreed to doing this without realizing that he had.

 

Which, now that he thought about it, was why the good doctor had been essentially glaring at him when they’d been in the TARDIS before the mission. As with most things, the Doctor hadn’t truly paid much mind to the reaction the Scot was displaying; he merely took it to mean that Carson was upset about something and was taking it out on them. After all, a lot of humans the Doctor had met tended to do that and so Carson wouldn’t have been the first.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to the door, knowing the pain they were going through just for the sake of the humans’ survival, albeit, under different circumstances. “I’m so, so sorry.”

 

“Sorry about what?” the Colonel asked as he patiently allowed Carson to examine the laser shot to his shoulder. Although the military man was looking at him, the Doctor also noticed how close an eye the man kept on his friend. His green eyes seemed to take in every single wince or sign of injury and file them away for later use as he knew that he could nothing for the Scot whilst they were still stuck on the wraith ship. That knowledge, however, apparently hadn’t been gleaned by the doctor as he continued with his ministrations all while ignoring his own hurts.

 

The nonchalance with which the Colonel treated what he and his friends had just done to the wraith irked the Doctor. Did these humans truly not see how monstrous they themselves were becoming in their endeavors to keep their party alive?

 

“Do you have any idea what they are going through thanks to your poison?” he asked, finding his anger rising the more he thought about it all. His teeth were clenched and the question came out as more of a growl but that was just fine with him. He was beyond angry for what had been done to the wraith who had yet to actually do wrong. “Do you know the kind of special hell they are in just because you feel you’re in the right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The answer was a silent one but it had not come from the Colonel. Although the Scot hadn’t been looking at the Doctor, he knew that it was Carson who had answered. No doubt, Carson had meant for it to be so quiet that no one had noticed but the Doctor had heard and judging by the look on the Colonel’s face, so had he. The only way the Doctor could find to describe the Colonel’s expression was surprised; surprised _and_ stricken. Clearly the man hadn’t known that anything so terrible had happened to his friend but he had an idea as to when and he still felt remorse for it.

 

Not long after having spoken, the doctor swayed a little. The Colonel instinctively flung out an arm to keep Carson from falling. It had barely been enough but it had worked. Carson gave him a nod of assurance and thank you and then he seemed to gather himself up and draw new strength from somewhere deep inside.

 

“When?” the Doctor asked, not only intrigued but doubtful. “How?”

 

Carson looked over at him, his normally warm blue eyes tired and dull. For a moment the Doctor believed that Carson would once again put him off or simply not answer at all. But then the Scot spoke. “A long time ago,” he said rather vaguely. “And with a synthesized version of my own drug, meant to turn humans into wraith.”

 

“Turning a human into a wraith. That is an interesting concept,” the Doctor admitted as he gingerly stepped away from the console and joined the other two as they waited for the rest of the group to join them. Then a thought came to him. “Why would the wraith want to turn a human? The queens normally do all the work in breeding the new wraith and since it takes quite a bit for them to die – or rather it used to before you lot came – there wasn’t a burning need for such a drug to be made. Unless it’s payback for what Doctor Beckett has done to them, then that would make sense, and what better test subject than the good doctor himself. They were probably hoping to instill a sense of fear into you, wanting to make you think twice about attempting to convert another wraith again. It’s a good idea, honestly, if not a bit cruel. But then, you humans haven’t ever had much trouble with being cruel, then, have you?”

 

All of this spilled out of his mouth before the Timelord could think on what he was doing and saying. In all honestly, he was only thinking out loud and therefore didn’t have a need to curb his thoughts so they didn’t sound quite so harsh. But the moment he’d finished speaking, he’d noticed how angry the Colonel had looked and how pale and saddened Carson appeared and he mentally winced.

 

He wanted to apologize for his thoughtlessness but there was a small part of him that believed that the Atlanteans had needed to hear what he’d said and so he didn’t.

 

Under it all, the Doctor knew that Carson Beckett was a good man. He was just another human trying to survive in a galaxy where humans were the alien race and the dangers were far worse than anything they had ever encountered in the Milky Way. In the Scot’s mind, turning a wraith into a human was more humane. It was, admittedly, better than killing the wraith, which went against everything that Carson Beckett so obviously stood for, but the Doctor doubted that Carson had known at the time just how little that difference had been.

 

Well, he amended, the Scot knew now so perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing that he had been experimented on.

 

 _I can’t believe you just said that,_ an appalled voice said in the back of his mind. The tone had been something that he would have used once upon a time but the voice had been pure Rose, full of shock and disgust. On some level, the Doctor couldn’t believe that he’d condoned it either, but there it was.

 

“Perhaps we should get the darts ready,” Carson said when the silence had begun to feel stifling. His voice wasn’t steady at all and it grated as though his vocal chords were being shredded by glass. No doubt part of that was due to the fact that Amara had attempted to choke the man to death, but guilt also settled into the Timelord’s stomach when he realized that it was also because of the affect his words had had on the human.

 

Behind him, the dart bay doors opened and admitted Teyla and Rodney. Rose and Ronon’s part in the whole mission was to get to the TARDIS and get it down to the planet to aid Major Lorne’s team in preparing the Gabrihath for fallout that was more than likely to happen. The two stopped instantly upon sensing the mood within the bay and stared at the other three.

 

“Are we going to hang around here until they all wake up and try to kill us all or do you think we should, oh I don’t know, leave so that doesn’t happen?” the physicist, a rather grating if not brilliant man, intoned. “Because I for one don’t relish being fed upon, do you?”

 

The Doctor watched as Carson idly rubbed his chest before he began to move away from the supporting arm of the Colonel.

 

“Rodney is correct,” Teyla added, if not more evenly than the scientist. “We should be leaving.”

 

“Aye,” Carson agreed, seeming to have more presence of mind than the other two. Or maybe it was because the Doctor was waiting for some sort of reaction from the Atlanteans and the Colonel looked just about ready to leave him on the ship. “We should at that. Teyla, help support the Doctor, he’ll need it once he’s been dematerialized.”

 

“Dematerial-what-now?” Rodney asked, disconcerted. “I thought we were all just going to grab a dart or something and fly down that way.”

 

“Rodney, you know as well as the rest of us that no two people could fit in one of those things,” the Colonel said, evidently choosing now to break out of his trance. “So just stand with the others and wait for me to come back.”

 

While the physicist was still trying to decide what his comeback would be, his mouth flailing like a person lost at sea, the Colonel jogged away to grab a spare wraith dart. Teyla, doing as her friend suggested, came over to where the Doctor was standing and silently slipped under his left side, not bothering to ask him if he wanted her help.

 

“Carson, are you alright?” Teyla asked, apparently having noticed that something was amiss with her friend and evidently not paying any attention to the man that she supported.

 

“Aye, I’m alright, love. You? Did ye encounter any troubles while attempting to infect the ship?”

 

“It was nothing that we could not handle,” the Athosain assured. Her eyes swept to the side, eyeing Rodney and daring him to say more. The scientist was too busy pounding on his table to pay attention, however and did not even appear to notice that she had said anything to begin and so he spoke no argument to the opposite.

 

“It really is a shame that you lot had to do that,” the Doctor grieved while keeping a smile which he didn’t feel on his face. “This ship is pretty remarkable in its own right. I would love to study her.” His brown eyes traveled around the gargantuous dart bay as he spoke, his voice carrying in the empty space around them. “Perhaps I can sneak onto another one and get a look at her that way. I’ll have to wait for a time when Rose isn’t with me, of course, but that’s no matter.” He waved a hand, dismissing it as easily as smoke in the air. “She won’t be with me too much longer at any rate.”

 

“Does she know that?” Doctor Beckett asked with little to no emotion in his voice. Something in the way the man had said it, however, made the Doctor focus on him and not the ship any longer. Brown eyes met blue and the Timelord saw a bit of protective anger where there hadn’t been anything before.

 

“Not yet,” the Doctor conceded. “But she will soon.”

 

If the others were going to make a comment, none of them knew it. For it was that precise moment that Colonel Sheppard chose that moment to sweep them up in the dart ship, dematerializing them and storing them for a later date.

 

 

**oOo**

John jogged away from the group to find the closest dart that he could. There weren’t many left which meant that they had been dispatched down to the planet the minute the alarm from earlier had begun to sound. Well, at least Lorne and his men will be kept busy, though John knew that they didn’t technically need that distraction right now since getting the Gabrihath to not arrest them on site would be hard enough.

 

The Doctor had explained that since it was his ship that had allowed them all to understand one another, those who went to the planet wouldn’t be able to understand a word of what was being said. He’d agreed to teach them a few key phrases to say so that they wouldn’t be killed or taken prisoner but the rest, he’d said, would just have to wait until he or the TARDIS got there.

 

Awfully cocky bastard, John thought with a grimace. The man apparently believed that everything would turn out perfectly right and that if something went wrong, he would be able to fix it in a hurry. Not that he didn’t trust Chewie to get the girl to the ship, mind you, but still!

 

He now understood why the man, or Timelord, or whatever, mainly chose to work with one other person. There was a less chance of getting everyone killed or taken when it was only just the two of you and full disclosure wasn’t always a necessity when it came to getting everyone out safe and unharmed.

 

John tried to reign in his disgust, knowing full well that it had mainly formed because of the words the Doctor had spoken aloud when Carson had admitted to being tortured by Michael, though the Doctor hadn’t known by whom.

 

And while on that subject, why hadn’t Carson _told_ any of them that’s what Michael had done to him? As he fired up the ship, John tried to imagine what it must have been liked to have been tied down and then experimented on with whatever sort of serum that Michael had created. Whatever it was that came to his mind, he knew that it probably didn’t come close to how it had actually been or felt. God, what Carson must have gone through!

 

Swinging the ship around, John went to the landing where he’d left everyone and gathered them up before departing the ship and heading to the planet. He’d noticed that they were apparently huddled close together, with Rodney paying them absolutely no attention while the other three conversed. What they were talking about was impossible to know but since they seemed to be getting along, he couldn’t find it in him to care.  

 

The ground below opened up into a field not far from where the underground city was said to have been established and John released the occupants from the ship before landing the ship and climbing out himself. His shoulder sent a throb of pain through his arm as he used it to lift himself up and out of the dart. He tried to ignore the injury as best he could since he didn’t really have the option to do otherwise but it didn’t necessarily work. Holding the gun alone would be difficult and both he and Carson knew it.

 

Where the Scot had gotten the gumption to confidently grab the dropped weapon and just start firing, John will never know, but he was grateful for it all the same. The doc’s quick actions and attempt at leadership were what had gotten them all through the doors to the bay with relatively minor injuries. No doubt the doctor had picked up a few things whilst exploring the wild villages of Pegasus but still, John was impressed.

 

“You couldn’t have parked us closer?” Rodney griped the instant they’d started walking, or hobbling as was with John, Carson and the Doctor’s cases, towards the entrance that the alien had assured them was there.

 

“I got you as close as I could without announcing to the entire planet where we were located,” John answered somewhat impatiently. Normally he could handle Rodney’s acerbic wit but right now was not one of those times. He was annoyed and wanted to have words with the Doctor to clear the air so they could all move on and continue with the mission. Since hiccups were bound to happen, it was best not to leave things to fester. That was how loyalties were divided and people were betrayed and John wasn’t about to let that happen within his team.

 

“Actually, you probably could have parked a wee bit further away,” the Doctor said, his English accent thick and a welcome break from the normal American. “But all in all, Colonel, I think you did quite well with what you had to work with.”

 

Letting the compliment slide off his back, John didn’t respond. His mind was too busy processing what his eyes scanned as he kept an eye out for potential attackers. A flash of movement to his right had John instantly alert and looking more closely over there. Since trees skirted the clearing it wouldn’t be hard for someone to sneak up on them and that made the Colonel more than a little uneasy.

 

“John,” Teyla said, her tone telling him that she, too, had seen the movement and wished that she was in a better position to do something about it. The Doctor had released her of her assigned position as his crutch, claiming that he could very well manage on his own, and so she was currently doing all that she could but John knew that she felt it was not enough, even though she would never say as much.

 

“I know,” he said, eyes still searching and ears more alert by the minute. “I saw it.”

 

 _“Colonel Sheppard, come in,”_ Lorne’s voice broke through on the comms.

 

In spite of himself, John jumped. “This is Sheppard,” he acknowledged.

 

_“Try not to shoot me, sir. I come in peace.”_

The joking tone in his 2IC’s voice made John chuckle, a sound that he heard repeated by Carson and the Doctor. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Teyla give a small smirk to show her amusement while Rodney merely rolled his eyes and grumbled something about having sciatica.

 

“Roger that,” he said to show Lorne that he’d gotten the message. “Did Ronon and Rose make it?”

 

 _“Yeah, they arrived about twenty minutes ago, sir.”_ From out behind the tree near where John saw the flash of movement, Lorne appeared, McGinnis and Bybee at either shoulder as backup. “What took ya so long?” he called, effectively halting their progress and drawing the group close to him.

 

“Well, you know how it goes,” John returned. “The wraith are stubborn little vampires. They don’t like letting their prey go.”

 

He had actually been about to say something about how long they seemed to take to drop from the virus but he chose not to in the end. The Doctor seemed unusually touchy about the whole affair and for the moment it was best to let sleeping dogs lie until they were more alone and protected.

 

Lorne unconsciously rubbed his shoulder and it was then that John noticed that the man had been hurt. “I hear that,” he agreed. His head flicked back and to his right as Lorne motioned with it. “Come on, the others are waiting and I don’t think the inhabitants are much more patient.”

 

“No,” the Doctor said, this time taking for as spokesperson for the company. His eyes held a mournful look in them but why, John hadn’t a clue. With intent and resolve at whatever he had just decided, the alien finished his thought with, “I don’t suppose they are.”

 

**oOo**

Within the relative safety of Gabhr, Rose paced. She and Ronon had stepped out of the TARDIS only to be greeted by the most unfriendly of escorts which comprised of many warriors and the same person who had enjoyed beating the Doctor when they had been there earlier. Both she and Ronon had eyed that one warily and the bigger man seemed to be doing so still while she had ceased caring the later the Doctor had become.

 

Normally being separated from him wasn’t too bad as she normally had something else that she should be or could be doing. But this waiting thing was killing her. She wanted to be doing something to further help them all but without knowing how things went in the air, she didn’t dare for fear of breaking whatever peace treaty the Doctor had managed to form. If he’d been able to do so at all.

 

From what she’d been told, both from the Atlanteans and the Gabrihath who had been willing to speak with her, the wraith weren’t ones for peace. They seemed to believe that it was not needed since they were only trying to keep themselves fed. On the surface, Rose understood that and she didn’t doubt that had she not been a part of the race that was nothing more than cattle in this galaxy, she probably wouldn’t have a qualm about it all. But the fact of that matter was that she _was_ human and that she didn’t think it was right how often these wraith seemed to want to eat.

 

It was in that that she differed from the Doctor. Her friend sided more with the wraith. He empathized with them and so had tried to get the Atlanteans to see things from their point of view. But while, theoretically at least, they seemed to rationally understand it, the defense mechanism that is born into every free human was kicking in and was pushing them to defend themselves at all costs.

 

After the TARDIS had finished explaining why Doctor Beckett was so angry, Rose had found that she couldn’t decide whom she sided with – the Doctor or the humans. Like the Atlanteans, she could see and on some level understand the wraith’s side of all this. But the plain fact was that she _is_ human and therefore she also revolted against the idea of being killed. Especially since it was just so cruelly and painfully done. Besides, evidently some of the wraith were really quite smart so couldn’t their scientists come up with a way to make the feedings last longer or perhaps come up with some sort of synthesized way to do it? Or did they like the pain they caused? The suffering? Did they view the cullings like a hunt and relish in them when they were finished?

 

The answers to such questions never seemed to come and so she was left to ponder them once more as she proceeded to spin on her heel and being another turn around the room.

 

The hall in which they were gathered reminded her something out of the Lord of the Rings. It was deep underground and built out of the stone which formed the foundation of the planet. But while the Mithril Hall had been beautiful carved and cavernous, this was relatively small and roughly done. Clearly the Gabrihath didn’t care for things that were pleasing to the eye. Things served their purpose or they didn’t; there was no need to do more to them.

 

Fire lamps burned in the corners of the hall, the light flickering constantly as drafts swept silently through cracks and openings. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied within her own mind, Rose could easily have gotten lost in watching them.

 

A sudden burst of air exploded into the room as the main door was swung inwards, allowing entrance to the people on the other side. To her relief, Rose saw the Doctor among the group but the tightness around his eyes and the limp with which he was walking told her that he was not alright. As patiently as she could, she allowed them all to enter before hurrying over to her friend, hugging him out of sheer relief.

 

“Thank God you’re alright,” she said. She knew that she was being a bit overdramatic but she couldn’t stop herself. Her worry had escalated past the point where she could react normally.

 

“Of course I’m alright,” he answered, though he returned her hug.

 

Behind him, Doctor Beckett huffed but he didn’t say anything. Clearly he didn’t believe the Timelord and Rose didn’t either. But both let him continue with his lie, not really having any choice in the matter.

 

She released her friend and stepped back so that the Doctor could go and converse with the leader of the Gabrihath who, coincidentally, was in another, more secure room. Knowing that she wouldn’t be allowed entrance – apparently because the Gabrihath were stuck in the dark ages and believed that women had no place in war – Rose stayed behind with the nonessential of the Atlanteans.

 

Rose frowned a bit. It wasn’t really fair to call Carson or Rodney unessential. It demeaned them and it wasn’t true. But then again, the Gabrihath didn’t seem to care. Only warriors and leaders would be allowed to discuss the plans for the rescue and as a scientist, a doctor, and a companion were none of those things, they all stayed behind.

 

As Doctor McKay was busy doing God only knows what on his tablet – seriously, how did he even have power? He was on that thing constantly! – Rose went over to Carson who was gingerly lowering himself to the ground.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked after noticing how stiffly he was moving. Now that she looked, he also seemed a bit pale but that could very well have been the lack of proper lighting.

 

“Aye, I’m fine,” he said, dismissing her unconcern as best he could. His eyes traveled over her with the skill of a doctor and then he said, “It seems you and Ronon got the TARDIS here alright. Did ye have any trouble with the Gabrihath once you’d landed?”

 

“Not really,” she said, sitting down beside him on his left side and scooting closer for a bit of body heat. Being underground as long as she had was beginning to take its toll and she was getting truly cold. She had entertained the thought of going back to the TARDIS to get some warmer clothes but she hadn’t wanted to miss the Doctor’s arrival.

 

She nodded to where the guards stood clustered together and showing on expression on their dog-like faces. “They were under orders not to harm us, which was good because I don’t think we could have taken them otherwise.”

 

Carson chuckled, his face pinching a bit as he did so. “I think you underestimate Ronon,” he said as he eyed the doorway through which the others had gone.

 

“Maybe,” she conceded, now curious about how good the bigger man was at fighting. “How did things go on your end?” she asked, hoping to find out more about what had gone on and where they were likely headed.

 

“Well, she didn’t take the deal,” Carson said on a sigh. “Though I didn’t actually expect her to.” He sighed again, this time almost remorsefully. “Rodney and Teyla were able ta release the virus in time to save both your friend and myself from being fed upon.” He paused for a beat and then amended, “Or myself, rather since the Doctor isn’t human. I dunno what Amara would have done to him instead.”

 

Rose shivered at the thought. Thankfully she hadn’t met the wraith queen yet but given how both the Doctor and Colonel Sheppard had looked after their visit with them, she knew that she never wanted to meet them and that they had a penchant for causing pain.

 

“Are ye cold?” Carson asked, apparently having noticed her shiver.

 

“A little,” she admitted with a shrug. “I’ll be alright, though.”

 

“Are ye sure?” he asked, looking a bit doubtful. “I can give ye m’coat,” he offered. “Though I’m afraid it will be a bit big on ye.”

 

Knowing that she would be foolish to refuse such an offer, especially since she didn’t know how long she would be stuck here, Rose said, “Alright.”

 

Carson immediately began to unzip his vest. His movements were slow and careful and his face seemed to curl into a grimace every time he had to lift his arms but he didn’t ask for help or say a word. She helped him as much as she thought he would allow and pulled the vest off his arms so that he wouldn’t have to do it himself. As he unzipped the jacket and began to take it off, she noticed a hole on the right side.

 

“Were you shot?” she asked, now more than a little concerned.

 

He finished taking the extra layer off and then examined the tear in the leather. It wasn’t very big but it was obvious what had caused it since the fabric around it was cauterized.

 

“It’s just a scratch,” he said as he handed the garment over for her to use.

 

Rose took it and slipped it on, grateful for the warmth it instantly provided. She pivoted a little so that she was able to see him easier and then she began to lift his shirt.

 

“What are ye doin’?” he asked sounding both curious and appalled in one. His breath hitched as the cold air hit his skin and his stomach jumped in time to the sound.

 

The wound was relatively small in size but it was not what she would have categorized as a scratch. It wasn’t deep by any means and it wasn’t bleeding, thankfully, but it looked angry and painful. Her fingers reached out to probe it but before she could, Carson lowered his shirt as though that could actually hide the injury.

 

“Shouldn’t you disinfect it or something?” she asked. She didn’t see the point in arguing over whether or not she was allowed to further inspect the wound. They both knew that she was no medical professional and so she was forced to defer to his expertise.

 

“Aye, I probably should,” he conceded while not sounding like he was going to. This time he lifted the shirt of his own will and looked down. His right hand came up to feel the injury as well as the area around it and soon stopped with a hiss. “Thankfully the heat from the bloody laser cauterizes the area so I’ll be fine until we can get back to Atlantis.”

 

Rose wanted to say something more, do something more, but she didn’t know what and so she remained quiet.

 

Before he could lower the shirt entirely, the door to the room opened again and the others entered. As though checking to make sure their friends were safe, three pairs of eyes swept the area, going from Rodney to Carson in seconds. When they noticed that the doctor had his vest and coat off and his shirt slightly up, they came over with the Doctor in tow behind them.

 

“Finally checking to make sure you’re alright, eh Doc?” the Colonel asked with the hint of a smirk on his face.

 

Rose rolled her eyes, recognizing an act when she saw it. She could tell from the man’s eyes alone that he wasn’t only teasing Carson but that he was relieved there was truth in his words. Behind him the Doctor frowned, apparently not having noticed that the Scot was injured.

 

“When did that happen?” the Timelord asked, curious.

 

“My guess would be while he was providing cover so that we could get into the dart bay,” the Colonel answered. His tone made it sound as though that should have been obvious, and perhaps it should have been, but Rose didn’t understand the undercurrent of hostility in there was well.

 

“Did something happen between you lot?” she asked out loud as her mouth ran away without her brain’s consent.

 

The answers she got from each man varied depending on personality but the gist of it was that they weren’t willing to tell her, which told her that something _had_ happened and they didn’t want to talk about it with her. Fair enough, she silently granted as though she could actually make them change their minds. Trying to get the Doctor to give a little was hard enough, she wasn’t really looking forward to adding a military leader and a Scot to the mix.

 

“Why did you not say anything?” Teyla asked as she knelt beside her friend. She was gentle about it but she did push Rose out of the space, taking her place with such grace that Rose didn’t even mind the change of position. Her fingers appeared to be doing a light dance over Carson’s pale skin as she examined the wound for herself and Rose saw that she was much gentler than Carson himself had been.

 

“Isnae too bad,” Carson assured while doing his best to get everyone’s attention off himself. “As I told Rose, I’ll be fine until we get back to Atlantis.”

 

At that statement, Rose saw the Colonel and the Doctor smirk as one. “What?” she asked, curious as to why they both looked like that cat that ate the canary.

 

“As it so happens, we are about to go back right now,” the Colonel answered, looking quite satisfied with himself. Evidently he didn’t get the opportunity to give Carson payback very often and he looked ready to sing the Scot’s sins when they were both in the infirmary.

 

“So soon?” Doctor McKay asked, making quite a few of them jump in surprise. A round of grimaces went through the group as the Doctor, the Colonel and Carson started but none of them let the expression stay for long.

 

“I’m surprised to hear you say that, Rodney,” the Colonel pouted. “I would have thought you ready to leave long before now. Wasn’t it you complaining about your sciatica on the way here?”

 

“For your information Colonel Smarty Pants, I wasn’t complaining, I was merely stating the fact that all that walking was going to make my sciatica act up. And as it so happens, I think I may have found an Ancient device buried somewhere down here and I haven’t finished reading the scans from it yet.”

 

“What kind of Ancient device?” Ronon asked as Carson’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and John’s did the same out of focus and attention.

 

“Did I not just finish saying that I haven’t finished reading the scans yet? Or are your ears so plugged from all that hair that you’re slowly going deaf?” the scientist returned, annoyed and clearly out of patience which was always in short supply with him.

 

“Could you not read your scans while back at Atlantis?” Teyla interjected, clearly used to being the peacekeeper of the group. “Since the Doctor, Carson and John are injured, I believe it best to get them back to the city while we have the opportunity.”

 

The men in question grimaced at the intonation she gave but they didn’t argue either; although they looked to be about two seconds away from arguing that they were fine.

 

The effect worked, however, as Doctor McKay looked up from his device and looked at his two friends. For once his expression softened into one of well-disguised concern and he stammered a bit before finally admitting that they probably should go back while they could.

 

“What about the Gabrihath?” Carson asked as Teyla lowered his shirt and helped him to stand up.

 

Rose noticed the way the Athosian kept a hold on him while he got his bearings. Her grip was strong but not hurtful and Carson seemed to instinctively know that he could lean on her until he was ready not to. She wished the Doctor trusted her as much as this group did one another. Shaking her head, Rose dispelled the thought, knowing that it would never happen as that kind of trust had to built up over several years and by the time she and the Doctor ever got close enough to that, he would probably find a way to get rid of her. It hurt but she knew it for the truth that it was.

 

“We will be coming back very shortly,” the Doctor said. “We’re only going back for a few things and to revise the plan.”

 

“Since the wraith will be preoccupied by the hive ship being incapacitated, we have a bit of leeway before they begin their attack on the planet,” Colonel Sheppard added.

 

“And with the time difference it will be long enough for everyone to recuperate a little before the real work begins,” Rose reasoned out loud as she caught on to what was happening.

 

“The real work,” Carson repeated, sounding a bit baffled by the statement. After looking around the group and spotting the Doctor’s wide grin, he shook his head and sighed. “I hate ta think what your idea of the real work is.”

 

“Don’t worry, Doc,” the Colonel said, coming forward and giving the shorter man a gentle pat on the back. “You’ll be back at Atlantis for this round.”

 

**TBC**

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter XII**

 

Grace Porter looked around her infirmary, honey brown eyes taking in the relative peace of it all.

 

Colonel Sheppard’s had team filled the relatively small space and had been spread out around it with a nurse or PA taking each person in turn. Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney had been cleared almost as soon as they had entered, as had the woman called Rose who traveled with the alien called the Doctor. Since none of them had been injured, they had been scanned to ensure that nothing untoward had followed them home and then they’d been told to do something else with themselves while Grace and her staff worked on the other three. Surprisingly, most of them had listened. Only Rose had chosen to remain behind. She now stood beside the Doctor’s bed, her eyes traveling between her friend and Carson who sat before Grace looking pale and in pain.

 

As she silently wondered what the girl’s interest was in Carson, Grace proceeded to check her boss over. Having argued himself vehemently out of a gown, he’d changed into a set of scrubs and now half sat, half laid on the bed waiting for her to begin. She decided to start with the obvious injury and moved to examine his side.

 

Having been there when the Colonel and the Doctor had been examined, she knew what had caused the wound and that there wasn’t much she could do for it or him. She disinfected it as gently as she could and then applied a small amount of cream to soothe the burned skin before she covered the whole thing with a gauze bandaged. Whereas the Doctor and the Colonel’s wounds had been quite deep, Carson’s was, thankfully, not. It was deep enough that he’d been feeling the injury for quite some time but it wouldn’t necessarily hamper him in any way. At least, she amended, none that he would allow.

 

After finishing with his side, she briefly glanced at his face, stopping when she noticed a hand-shaped bruise around his neck.

 

“What happened there?” she asked as she gentle palpitated it.

 

“The queen wasnae happy with the answers I gave her.”

 

“She tried to choke you?” Grace asked, appalled. Not that the wraith hadn’t done worse; they just hadn’t done worse to Carson that she was aware of. He winced, either from the memory or from the pain of the deepest of the bruising, and she withdrew her hand.

 

He nodded but didn’t say another word and so she changed her attention to his foot which was a bit swollen.

 

“Did a lot of running, did you?” she commented lightly, knowing that he had. She’d treated him often enough after he’d healed to be able to spot when he hadn’t been taking care of himself. She was actually surprised that he’d walked in here under his own steam, honestly. Grace could remember a time when she’d had to physically help him into the infirmary because he hadn’t been able to do it on his own.

 

“Not by choice, love, I can promise ya that,” he answered, sounding somewhat relaxed and vexed at the same time.

 

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said as she began to make sure that nothing had changed since he’d left.

 

This particular injury was the main reason why Carson didn’t go off world anymore. The amount of exercise alone could end up being too much for him which could in turn endanger the others in the right circumstances. Grace had been, let’s say, less than pleased when she’d been informed by Doctor Weir that he would be joining the team today. Her unease had only grown after having talked with the Doctor and his companion after she’d explained why she and her staff had been watching their boss so closely.

 

Evidently, the Doctor’s adventures were never light. They always seemed to involve both him and his friend running for their lives or the lives of others and that was something that Carson did not need. Yet, the Timelord had insisted that Carson was key in his negotiations with the wraith queen and so she had kept her mouth shut. She’d wanted so much to tell someone to look out for Carson or warn someone else of punishment if something happened to her boss but neither was professional or her place.

 

Carson Beckett was CMO of Atlantis. Which meant that he was not only Grace’s boss but the boss of every medical professional _on_ Atlantis.

 

As far as Grace was concerned, it sucked. Not long after arriving on Atlantis, she had felt feelings stirring within her for him. His striking blue eyes and easy manner had grabbed her attention with ease, just as they had done with a lot of females, and some males too, on Atlantis. She hadn’t had time to explore those things further, however, when he had gone off world with Colonel Sheppard and had come back badly hurt, though not dangerously.

 

Throughout the next year, she slowly got to know him. She learned a variety of things from his temper to his docile manner. She learned how high his pain tolerance was thanks to his sheer stubbornness and refusal to admit when he was hurting. And she learned how sharp he could truly be when he was angry. But she also learned about him. He told her about his mother and the family that he had left behind after having received a letter from them. Naturally he hadn’t told them that he’d been injured, but apparently he wrote to them whenever he could, in spite of his busy and draining schedule, and so he always had a letter or ten to receive whenever Colonel Caldwell swung by. She shared his joy when he’d been told of a new niece or nephew and she’d shared his sorrow whenever a friend or loved one had died. After having heard about the amount of love he had for his mother, Grace hoped that she never died. It was irrational, of course, but she couldn’t help it. The grief alone would probably crush him and Grace didn’t think she could bear to watch that.

 

As Carson became more mobile, she’d backed off of her care. She let him know that she was always there if he needed her but she also gave him his space and didn’t pester him, no matter how much she wanted to. He had been thankful for it, however, and soon she’d found him seeking her out, enjoying her company as much as she enjoyed his. She knew they had become friends then but her heart had decided that she wanted more.

 

But she wasn’t willing to push for it yet and so she remained silent, making do with his friendship while she could. Many of the nurses knew of her true feelings, of course. They were her closest friends next to Carson and whoever hadn’t already guessed was told when she finally chose to admit it to them. They all encouraged her to be honest with him, almost going so far as to assure her that he felt the same, but she couldn’t do it. Not yet at any rate. So she waited, hoping she hid her feelings better than she actually did.

 

Carson cut of a sound of pain as she pressed near where damaged bones were and Grace stopped her exam. She had been able to tell enough to know that no permanent damage had been done and that, like usual, he would need to take it easy for a couple of days. Of course, convincing Carson of that was another matter entirely. Which was why the staff had made sure to keep an extra chair in his office so that he could rest in there when it was slow and join in when it wasn’t.

 

She looked over at him, inwardly apologizing for hurting him even though it wasn’t her fault. Outwardly she sighed and said, “Stay there while I go get an ice pack.”

 

“I’ll be fine without it,” Carson argued, sitting up as slowly as he could and lowering his legs over the side of the bed. He stopped long enough to ease himself to the ground, making sure to keep a firm grip on the bed to keep himself from falling over. His limp was very heavy as he walked, something she saw the Doctor and Colonel Sheppard noticed when Carson passed them. Both leaders were having their wounds tended to and, in John’s case was being given a sling to rest his shoulder, and so they hadn’t left yet.

 

Grace let out a sigh. At this point, there wasn’t a use in fighting with Carson. It was best just to simply let him do what he will and try to help him when he wasn’t really looking. There were times when she could match and master Carson’s stubbornness but today was not one of them. Her heart wasn’t in it and neither was her head. Honestly, she’d much rather go yell at Elizabeth but that wouldn’t be appropriate either.

 

 _“Weir to Doctor Porter,”_ her comm chirped, startling her a little. No matter how long she has been on Atlantis, Grace knew that she would _never_ get used to someone suddenly barking in her ear.

 

“Go ahead,” she said after watching Carson settle into his office and close the door.

 

_“How are your patients?”_

 

‘Well, how nice of you to ask. John has a deep burn in his shoulder and he probably shouldn’t go back out. The Doctor is healing nicely; you can’t even tell he was hurt. And Carson can barely walk because he went out on a mission which you commanded he do; not to mention the burn on his side or the fact that he’d been almost killed because the damn queen can’t keep her hands to herself or her temper under control.’

 

The snark came to her mind almost immediately and oh how she _wished_ she could actually say all that. But she didn’t. Elizabeth was not only her boss but also her friend. Grace knew that she cared deeply for those that lived on this city and perhaps even more so for her friends. No doubt she was just as upset with herself for the hurts John and Carson had suffered as Grace was.

 

“They are patched up and currently resting,” she said instead. “The Doctor will be fine in a few hours and both John and Carson have received as much treatment as they would allow.” She looked around the infirmary once more. “Carson has locked himself in his office and John has disappeared, no doubt so that we didn’t have time to try and keep him for observation.”

 

 _“That sounds like John,”_ Elizabeth answered with a smile in her voice and fondness in her tone. _“Is Carson okay to start working, though?”_

Grace gave a shrug that her boss couldn’t see. “Well enough, I suppose,” she said. “Providing he stays in his office, he should be okay.”

 

_“Yes because we all know how well that always turns out.”_

Again, Grace gave a shrug. She agreed with the sarcasm and didn’t have thing to say which could assure her friend and so she said nothing.

 

There was a hesitant pause before Elizabeth said more. _“Make sure he takes care of himself, please. It seems that you’re the only one who can ever get him to do so.”_

The worry in Elizabeth’s voice helped negate a lot of Grace’s ill feelings towards her decisions, but not all. The rest would go away before the day was out, however, that she knew for sure. Grace could never begrudge the woman who had the weight of their small world on her shoulders and the worry and concern of so much more. Not for long, at any rate.

 

“I’ll do my best,” she assured before disconnecting the link and taking the device out of her ear. “God only knows how easy it will be.”

 

**oOo**

While Doctor Porter conversed with whomever had contacted her through the comm link, the Doctor looked over at Colonel Sheppard. The military commander was offering a smile to the nurse as she finished applying his shoulder sling but once she had finished, he looked over to return the Timelord’s gaze. It was only for a moment, however, and before long the Colonel was off his cot and leaving the room without a backward glance.

 

There had been an undercurrent of anger carefully concealed within the man’s careful indifference to him while they had been on Gabhr. And though that still remained, the mask was beginning to crack and the Colonel’s true feelings were beginning to show.

 

**What have you done, my thief?**

_Done to what?_ he asked, confused by the question. _I haven’t done anything to anything, have I? I’ve been stuck with this lot._

**Which is precisely whom I am talking about. The one they call Sheppard is angry at you. He has asked Atlantis to keep an eye on you.**

_Well that’s normal, isn’t it? A bit ridiculous, but normal. After all, he doesn’t know me and it’s his job to ensure safety for everyone here._

**_He does not want you near Doctor Beckett,_** the voice of Atlantis broke in. Her voice, if a voice it could be called, was just as indifferent as that of the TARDIS but he could also sense impatience and curiosity in there as well.

 

He hopped off the bed and began to slowly make his way toward his ship, craving her safety. Looking around at the walls of the city he griped, _Oi! Who said you could join in this conversation?_

 

**I have included her, my thief, as this concerns her as well as me.**

Weeell, isn’t that something? Two ships ganging up on him rather than just one. Brilliant!

 

**_Have you done something to Doctor Beckett?_ **

****

The lights around him dimmed, almost as though the city were narrowing her eyes at him.

 

“There you are,” Rose said as she suddenly caught sight of him. She came towards him with a smile on her face. Then she caught the lowered lights and the expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I’m being interrogated by two bloody ships, that’s what’s wrong.”

 

“Why? What did you do?”

 

“Now why do you think I’ve actually done something? I could very well be innocent you know. I almost always am. Except for that time of Falad. And also on Coor. And perhaps a few others. But, look, the point is I haven’t done anything to warrant this level of questioning.”

 

“That’s not the way the TARDIS sees it,” Rose scoffed with a smile. “So, what did you do?”

 

The hum of Atlantis, which was normally so soothing and soft, began to get louder, vibrating through their chests. The Doctor thought it was almost a growl but he wasn’t sure.

 

They had made it to the ship at long last but when the Doctor tried to enter, she wouldn’t let him in.

 

_Oi!_

**Answer us and I will let you enter.**

_Let me enter and I’ll answer you,_ the Doctor negotiated. He didn’t particularly want to be surround by Atlantis on the off chance that the city would attempt to cause him harm out of some misguided mother-henning.

 

 ** _Shall I ask John?_** the city threatened somewhat casually.

 

“Oh, for the love of,” the Doctor cursed. The way these three were reacting you would have thought that he had executed an entire planet of people! “I insinuated that I approved of Doctor Beckett having been tortured and experimented on. Alright?”

 

The stillness in the air told him that Atlantis was processing what he’d just said. In the next instant the TARDIS doors opened, allowing him access to the safety he always felt whilst inside his ship.

 

“You did what?” Rose asked, following him and shivering slightly. There wasn’t judgment in her voice, per se, but there was something. Disgust? No. Disappointment? Probably. He was disappointed with himself now that he thought about it.

 

 **Oh my thief,** the TARDIS said sounding saddened. **There is a time and a place to release your anger at what has been done to one race or another. On an enemy ship and after the man had been just tortured was not it.**

“He had what now?” Rose asked, whirling about the ship and looking at her. She fixed her eyes on the console, apparently deciding it was the best place to look while having this conversation with the TARDIS.

 

 **The Queen had tried to brake Doctor Beckett’s mind as well as his neck,** the TARDIS informed. She’d been filled in on the essentials the moment the Doctor had entered her, taking the memories he’d allowed her to see from him through their link and so she’d known precisely what had transpired while they’d been with Amara.

 

“Carson had been strangled?” Rose said in a whisper. “How did I not notice that?”

 

 ** _He did not wish you to,_** Atlantis answered, making the pair of them jump. The Doctor hadn’t known that Atlantis could still converse with them while they were inside the TARDIS. The equivalent of a head nod echoed through their minds and then she added, **_I shall do as John says. Doctor, you are not allowed to approach Doctor Beckett._**

****

And with that her presence was gone.

 

“Well, that went well,” he said, surprised at how calmly Atlantis had reacted. He’d expected her to a bit more present when she’d found out.

 

“You should go apologize,” Rose said, making him whirl around to face her.

 

“I will do no such thing. Whatever gave you that idea? I have not apologized for speaking my mind and nor will I ever.”

 

Now that he had told her, the Doctor felt no need to hide what precisely had happened. He let down his guard and the TARDIS entered, sifting through his mind to find the memory she wanted and viewed it without comment.

 

 **Oh my thief,** she said on a sigh. **How can you condemn what you yourself have not experienced?**

 

Images began to play through the Doctor’s mind. Images of Doctor Beckett being tied to a chair. Pictures of the wraith who had done it. Terror swept through him as he viewed that face and the Doctor knew that he was feeling whatever Carson felt. The ache in his wrists from pulling against the restraints was soon dwarfed by the sheer agony that coursed through his veins as Michael injected the concoction then gleefully watched as Carson writhed and whimpered.

 

**At least the Atlanteans put the wraith to sleep while they do it. The wraith do not even feel what has happened to them or remember it. The same cannot be said for the human.**

And there was the hitch. The Atlanteans did things as humanely as possible. While the wraith had made sure that Carson had felt every single second of it and remembered the torture as though it were yesterday.

 

The sound of the TARDIS door opening brought the Doctor back to the present in time to see Rose start to disappear through it.

 

“Where are you going?” he asked, perplexed as well as slightly ashamed.

 

“Well, one of us needs to apologize to Carson and since you won’t do it, I will.”

 

The door closing echoed through the console room. It was as though when Rose left, so had the TARDIS. But it wasn’t true. His ship; his ol’ girl simply refused to speak to him any longer.

 

**oOo**

Carson sat in his office, nursing a cup of tea and reading through some of the research he’d done on the virus and then every once in a while comparing it to what he knew of the wraith. The Doctor’s comments about what he had done with the virus and what had been done to him plagued him and had made him wonder if there had been another way and he had just been too blind to see it. He had been searching ever since he’d entered the office but so far he hadn’t been able to find a way.

 

The tea burned as it went down and settled into his nearly empty stomach but even so, the heat seemed to help his sore throat. That bloody queen just had to squeeze didn’t she? It hadn’t been enough that she’d tried to shred his mind, no she’d had to go for his throat too.

 

**_Are you alright, Carson?_ **

****

Carson smiled at the concern she relayed. The lights in his office seemed to dim a little and the air grew warmer, two things that he had not realized he either needed or wanted. Now that he stopped to do something other than read, he did realize that he had the beginnings of a headache forming in his skull and that he was a little chilled.

 

 _Aye, I’m fine, love. How is John faring?_ It was easier to get Atlantis to tell him the truth about the Colonel than it was trying to ask the man himself. He was thankful that she never evaded or lied to him.

 

 ** _He is..well. He is in a little bit of pain but as that is keeping him from using his shoulder, all is well._** There was a pause, as though she were debating what all to say and then she added, **_He is concerned about you. He has requested that I watch the Doctor while he is here and I do not disagree._**

****

_There is no need to do that, Atlantis. The Doctor is a very passionate being and although I do not condone how he feels, I do not necessarily disagree with it either._

**_Whether or not you are in the right is not for me to say,_** she admitted.

 

Although Carson felt a bit of disappointment at the sentient – and intelligent – ship didn’t immediately assure him that he had been in the right, he couldn’t blame her either. She didn’t have emotions such as humans did. Atlantis could feel concern, happiness, etc. as humans did, but she had learned that _from_ the humans that now inhabited her. When it came to the wraith, she viewed them from the Ancient’s personality and from what Carson could gather, those beings were too rational to add much emotion to the situation.

 

A knock on his office door brought any further conversation that could have been had to an end. Being so used to the quiet, Carson startled a little. Thankfully he didn’t still have his tea in his hands otherwise that could have been potentially embarrassing. Adjusting his chair so that he could see his office door, Carson smiled at seeing Rose in the doorway.

 

He was always happy to see the young woman. Though he knew that she was the Doctor’s friend, Carson believed that she was willing to become his as well. He enjoyed her company and she was friendly and seemed to care about others. He also knew that she would not stay on Atlantis when the Doctor left; she enjoyed the thrill of the danger she and her friend chased too much for her to give it up willingly.

 

“Rose,” he greeted, “hello.”

 

She smiled, looking a little bit awkward in the motion. She didn’t wait for him to invite her in, she merely walked in and sat down in the chair that was opposite his desk and chair. “You alright?” she asked.

 

“Of course,” he answered, looking and sounding confused, “why wouldn’t I be?”

 

Her eyes traveled down to his throat where he expected a fine amount of bruising was forming. They stayed there for a minute or two as she, no doubt, took the marks in, and then she refocused on his face. In her expression, Carson read many things but the main one was – understanding. Had the Doctor told her what had happened whilst they had been on the Hive ship? Or had the TARDIS? Either way, Carson assumed it didn’t matter. She knew. Not that it was such a horrible thing, her knowing, but Carson did have his pride as well. It was embarrassing how easily he gave in to the pain the queen caused.

 

“He doesn’t believe what he said, you know,” she said, her eyes almost blunt though her tone was anything but. Carson didn’t respond right away. What could he say? Instead, he settled back a little in his very uncomfortable chair and patiently waited for her to finish whatever else she had come here to say. “The Doctor, I mean,” she added, evidently wanting to make sure that he knew to whom she was referring. “He seems to be more rude this regeneration and he has a terrible habit of letting his mouth run away with his thoughts.”

 

“This regeneration?” Carson asked, puzzled by her meaning.

 

Rose nodded, seeming to understand that he wasn’t comprehending, and smiled. “You know he’s an alien,” she said, beginning an explanation that she had obviously given more than once. “Well, his species, the Timelords, can regenerate their bodies when they are dying. It’s sort of like when our bodies heal only everything changes for them. Their faces, their personalities, their tastes; everything.”

 

“And that has happened while you were traveling with him?” Carson asked though he already knew the answer. Again, she nodded. She lowered her head to look down at her lap, no doubt wanting to hide some sort of emotion which the memory caused. Carson allowed her her privacy and again waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he added, “That must have been hard. To get to know a completely new person, I mean.”

 

“He was and he wasn’t,” she said as she looked back up at him. “At his core, the Doctor was the same. His principles never changed and neither did his memories, but the way he spoke, the way he looked, the things he liked, were all different.” She paused, biting her lip on a smile. She looked beautiful like that; if only she smiled more when she wasn’t thinking of the Doctor, Carson might have a better chance of seeing it more often. “The first time I met this version I was on the Sycorax spaceship and there he comes, waltzing in in his dressing gown, his hair all a mess, and he, eventually, saves the world – all while he’s still wearing pyjamas.”

 

This time her smile was positively brilliant. Its warmth seemed to flush her face and brighten her eyes. How the Doctor planned on getting rid of this young lady without her consent, Carson couldn’t even begin to imagine. Judging from her expression alone, Carson believed that Rose would never leave the alien’s side of her own volition.

 

“The Sycorax?” Carson asked. No doubt it was another alien race but rather than leaving them in awkward silence, he figured he’d ask the obvious question.

 

Her face wrinkled into a look of confusion. But then it smoothed out and became almost emotionless. Actually, that wasn’t true. It was more that the emotion she did show was nothing more or less than a challenge. It was that that told him that someone else had entered. He looked over his shoulder and found the Doctor standing in his doorway. How long the alien had been there, Carson wasn’t sure and he wondered how much the man had heard. When he looked back, Rose was looking back at him.

 

“The point is that, rude as he is, the Doctor does not believe that the wraith were right in subjecting to you what they had.”

 

With her sentence finished, she looked back to the Doctor in the doorway suddenly Carson began to feel like an intruder in his own office. Luckily – or perhaps not so luckily – it was then that his comm went off, making him jump.

 

_“Science Lab 4 to Doctor Becket.”_

Swallowing down his surprise and feeling his adrenaline rise, Carson reached up to activate the link. “This is Doctor Beckett. Go ahead.” Judging from the panic in the other person’s voice, the chances were good that this was an emergency. He gave Rose an apologetic smile and then stood and went into the main portion of the infirmary.

 

_“An ancient device that Gerry was working on exploded. He’s hurt pretty bad.”_

Carson began packing the things that he believed would be necessary to treat the possible injuries that Gerry – Doctor Crumm – might have sustained. “What are his injuries?” he asked as he slung the bag over his shoulder and marched out of the infirmary and into the hallways of Atlantis.

 

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter XIII**

_Thwack!_

Teyla blocked the attack with ease and returned one of her own. Naturally, it didn’t phase her partner, but it did make it so that he was more open for her next move. She aimed her bantos rod at his now-exposed flank and heard it connect with a loud _thump_. Her opponent grunted and stepped back, effectively resetting their match and allowing them both to prepare for another round.

 

“What do you think of the Doctor?” Ronon asked as he twirled his rods in his hands. The move could have been taken for a show of skill but Teyla knew that it was more to stretch and loosen his wrists than anything else.

 

The question surprised her. Ronon wasn’t the type to ask something like that out of the blue which meant that something was on his mind. What it was Teyla had no idea but she was sure that she would soon find out.

 

“I am not sure,” she answered honestly. She stepped to her right as Ronon did the same, giving her own set of rods a twirl of their own. “He is, confusing.”

 

They went through the first of many strikes and swings, neither one adding any effort to them, before Ronon responded. He didn’t say anything but he didn’t have to. The slight tilt of his head showed her what he wanted to know.

 

Teyla dropped her rods, her chest beginning to heave as her heart rate increased with the exercise, and then stepped off the mat. If she were going to have this conversation – or any for that matter – she was not going to do it where Ronon was free to take advantage of her lack of defense.

 

“He acts very upbeat and smiles more than any other person that I have known.” At that Ronon gave a smile, showing that he agreed. “And yet, he seems to deliberately leave out details, thus keeping not only us but his companion as well out of the loop.”  

 

“We’ve kept him out of the loop as well,” Ronon reminded her.

 

She still did not feel easy about that. While the virus appeared to only affect the wraith, they did not know how it would affect the Doctor. John had brushed it off, assuring her and everyone else that the alien’s physiology was similar enough to human that it wouldn’t change him in any harmful ways. Of course he had needed Carson’s help in solidifying that belief, help which Carson had not been entirely too willing to give. Ever since he had been taken by Michael, Carson had regarded the virus with something akin to disgust and fear. For the most part he refused to go near it let alone use it or test it. Whatever Michael had done to him had solidified in his memory such feelings that Carson seemed to loathe himself for making it.

 

It occurred to her that it was Carson’s reaction to the thing which he created that had made her most uneasy. Doctor Weir had had to force Carson to use it and in doing so had made Carson look as though he had been betrayed by not only their leader but all of his friends. Even though she had been against the plan and had argued against it, she still felt guilty.

 

Her thoughts of Carson had her remembering the scene in the dart bay. Carson had looked stricken as well as admonished and guilty, the Doctor appeared to be stunned but unrelenting and John had seemed not five seconds from shooting the alien where he stood. It puzzled her but as she was not involved in anything she was not about to talk to any of those involved about it.

 

“What?” Ronon asked, apparently having seen something in her expression as she’d thought. She didn’t answer him, not wanting to give anything more away, and he instead asked, “Does it have to do with why Sheppard has asked me to keep an eye on the Doctor?”

 

Teyla’s brow wrinkled in confusion. John was not the type to become overly suspicious for no reason. And yet, he had not talked with her about his plans regarding the Doctor or the potential risks the alien may present. “Is that why you wished to know my opinion?” she asked him. She wondered if the Satedan was uneasy about his task and wanted to know more information before he proceeded.

 

Now it was Ronon’s turn not to reply. His expression was neutral enough but his eyes told her what he would not. They confirmed her suspicions as much as they could but they also spoke of his concern with regards to John’s mental state.

 

To give herself time, Teyla packed her things into her bag and, after waiting from Ronon to grab the towel that he’d brought, walked out of the training room.

 

“I believe something happened between the Doctor, John and Carson while we were on the hive ship,” she said once they were on their way to her quarters. Their voices mixed with others so that their words were drowned out in the multiple conversations that happened around them. “I do not know what it was but when I entered, things were..strained between them.”

 

Beside her, Ronon nodded. “I’ll talk to Sheppard,” he said. The words were nothing more than him letting her know that he’d heard and decided what to do. Since there was no need for her to respond, she didn’t. They continued their walk towards her quarters, parting shortly before they arrived.

 

Teyla watched the bigger man go. Her unease over the situation hadn’t abated. If anything, it had increased, even more so with the realization that her friends were acting strangely and secretively. With Ronon talking to John, Teyla decided that it would be best, and easiest, for her to talk to Carson.

 

The doors to her quarters opened with a mechanical swish and Teyla stepped in. The security she felt while inside helped to ease her a little but she knew it would not last. With a sigh and no little amount of determination, Teyla set her things down and went to get cleaned up.

 

**oOo**

“Doctor Weir?”

 

Elizabeth’s head shot up and her eyes squinted. As she managed to force the image of Chuck into one person rather than two, it occurred to her that she had been staring at her computer screen for far too long and that she needed a break.

 

After noticing that he had her attention, the tech held up a paper on which she could see his messy scroll and read the note. “The Queen known as Amara offers a trade to the people of Atlantis and the being known as the Doctor.” He paused to make sure that he retained her attention and, with her stomach settling into a rock of unease, Elizabeth nodded at him to continue. He seemed hesitant to do so but after a moment, he finally finished reading. “Give us the human known as Carson Beckett and we will release the beings known as the Gabrihath.”

 

**oOo**

“Doctor Weir to Col. Sheppard.”

 

Elizabeth’s heart was racing. She knew what her answer was – an unequivocal no. Yet there was still a small, almost miniscule part of her that was tempted to take the offer. It made her sick but that was the harsh truth. No leader would ever hand one of her own people over and she knew that. But she also knew that that same leader would also consider it, at least a little, before they had decided on not doing it.  

 

_“This is Sheppard, go ahead Elizabeth.”_

John’s voice sounded wispy, almost as though he were out of breath. No doubt he had been sparring with Ronon. Elizabeth only hoped that he hadn’t provided Ronon with an open target due to her call.

 

“John, I need you to grab Carson, Teyla, Ronon, and the Doctor and meet me in the conference room.” At least her voice sounded strong and sure. Since it was two things that she didn’t feel at the moment, she took that for a good sign. “We’ve heard from the wraith.”

 

**oOo**

Once everyone was assembled, Elizabeth joined them. The doors to the room closed with a mechanical hiss which she’d begun to find soothing more so than not. She waited for all of the doors – there were three entries – to be closed and sealed before she began.

 

For the most part, no one looked worried, yet. Most of the expressions her team wore were neutral, although some were more relaxed than others. She noticed that John had brought more people than she had specified – namely the Doctor’s companion, Rose, and Major Lorne. While she supposed that Lorne had every right to be here since it would probably his team that would bail out John’s, she wasn’t sure of the wisdom of bringing in Rose. The girl was smart enough, to be sure, but she didn’t seem to have any tactical experience, thus making her a bit unnecessary in this meeting.

 

They all looked at her, evidently patiently waiting for her to begin. She gave them a small smile, though she was sure that the effort behind it showed.

 

“As you all know, we have received word from the wraith on PX3-525,” she began, not bothering to beat around the bush. “They have offered us a deal – they will release the inhabitants if we give them Carson.”

 

Slowly everyone’s, or mostly everyone’s, expressions changed in one form or another. Carson’s face was awash with fear; his eyes widened and Elizabeth could see his breathing get faster as his heart rate climbed. John’s expression was cold and hard with anger filling every pore. Although both Teyla and Ronon hadn’t appeared to think one thing or the other about the idea, Elizabeth could tell that they, too, were upset by the news. Teyla’s face was too neutral to be normal and the way she kept looking at everyone else, as though expecting someone to immediately burst out against the idea, spoke of her unease with the “plan”. Ronon’s eyes practically glittered at her. While Elizabeth didn’t think that the Satedan would outright attack her, she knew that the desire was there if she even considered turning the Scot over to the wraith. Even the Rose’s face showed her shock; apparently she had taken the statement to mean that Elizabeth _would_ give Carson to the wraith as a sacrificial lamb of sorts. Elizabeth didn’t take it to heart, knowing that the girl didn’t know her as well as the others did. Only the Doctor remained impassive. Oh, he watched her more closely, trying to determine where she was going with this, but he didn’t seem to care either way what happened to Carson and that bothered her.

 

“Now, obviously I have no intention of complying with their deal,” she said still managing to sound clam and reassuring. “But I am curious if anyone else has any other ideas.” She turned her attention specifically to the Doctor since it was he who had promised to help the Gabr..somethings in the first place. “Is there anyway that you or your ship could help free the inhabitants without the cooperation of the wraith?”

 

“Weelll,” the alien said, dragging out the word in a way which she was noticing he was prone to doing. “There’s always a way, isn’t there?” He gave her a smile but she didn’t return it. Nothing in this situation was worth smiling over. “It just depends on how many men and women you plan on putting at risk to do it.”

 

Elizabeth clenched her jaw, effectively biting back the first thought that had come to her mind. Now was not the time to get petty and point fingers. Right now, they had to figure out how to best get the mission done with as little bloodshed and casualties as possible. “Would the..,” she trailed off, not wanting to show just how little she’d memorized the inhabitants’ name.

 

“The Gabrihath,” Rose interjected for her, her voice helpful and nonjudgmental.

 

“The Gabrihath, thank you. Would the Gabrihath be willing to meet with us in order to work out a plan?” she asked, her attention still on the Doctor.

 

“Oh, they already have a plan,” the Doctor answered back, his cheeky smile still in place, though Elizabeth noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes at all.

 

“Which is?” She was a little annoyed that she was just hearing about it now, but she tried to keep that out of her voice and posture as much as possible.

 

Now that the announcement had been made, Elizabeth made to join the others at the table and sat down in the spot in between John and Carson. The Doctor sat directly across from her with Rose to his right and Teyla to his left. Lorne sat to Carson’s left and Ronon occupied the seat across the table from him, to John’s right. Rodney somehow managed to sit in the middle, looking like he was at the head of it all. All of them were looking to the Doctor for an explanation – all except Rose, that is.

 

“The Gabrihath are a very proud race,” the Doctor said, evidently thinking it better to give them a history lesson before he answered her question. “They do not like to ask for help and only do so when their need is dire. Whilst Col. Sheppard’s team, Rose and myself were captured, they were desperate. Now that the wraith have your lot’s attention, their focus has diminished on the Gabrihath, leaving them to decide that they no longer want or need your help.” Elizabeth had a feeling that she didn’t like where this was going but she remained silent and attentive, exuding patience where she felt none. “I believe they would agree to a meeting with your lot but for their own purpose,” he added, this time talking much slower than when he had been giving them basic background.

 

“You believe they will attempt to trap us and give Carson to the wraith themselves,” Teyla said, essentially voicing what the others have already concluded.

 

“Weelll, yeah, but, tell me, is that truly a bad idea?”

 

“I’m sorry?” Elizabeth asked, feeling her hackles rising.

 

“Doctor,” Rose half-whispered in warning to her friend.

 

“You can’t seriously be suggesting that we give them Carson?” John asked without bothering to hide his shock and slowly growing anger.

 

“Oi, now, hear me out,” the Doctor said. Somehow he had managed to make the statement an admonishment as well as a placation. And how did an alien from another planet manage to sound so..British?

 

“You’re not going to suggest what I think you’re going to suggest,” Rose said, her tone a mixture of incredulous and despairing. There was resignation in there was well and Elizabeth guessed that this wasn’t the first time she had gone through this with the Doctor.

 

“It could work,” the Doctor said, evidently not seeing the same problem that Rose saw.

 

“Only if you want to get yourself bloody killed,” the girl retorted. “And if you do, you had better bring your regenerated self back here so we can got tell my mum why you’ve changed your face again.”

 

For the first time since he’d come to Atlantis, the Doctor seemed to take a moment to think better of his plan. Whomever Rose’s mother was, she was apparently a formidable woman whom the Doctor didn’t like to trifle with. Then the second changed to another and his smile returned. “Oh, I’m sure Amara won’t kill me,” he said with enough confidence that it proved to everyone else that the wraith most likely would, in fact, kill him. “Weeelll, at least I’m about 92% sure that she wouldn’t.”

 

“You did abandon her in the wrong galaxy, where she eventually became a different creature entirely,” Rose reminded him.

 

“Okay, 77% sure,” the alien amended.   


“So let me get this straight,” said a very annoyed-sounding Rodney who had, up until this point, remained silent. “Your _brilliant_ idea is to not only let them take Carson but to let them have you as well?” He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in what Elizabeth as come to fondly think of as his “arrogant-you’re-an-idiot” pose. “Oh that sounds like a _great_ idea. While you’re at it, why don’t you throw in your companion as well, give the wraith a little snack in case they get hungry from all that torture and killing.”

 

“Rodney,” Elizabeth said with her voice at a halfway point between exasperated and scolding.

 

“Well I’m sorry but does no one else see how utterly stupid this plan is?”

 

No one answered his question. Elizabeth couldn’t tell what the others were thinking but since it wasn’t their lives on the line, they weren’t the ones that she wanted to hear from. Turning to her left, at her CMO and her friend, she asked, “Carson, what do you think?”

 

All throughout the conversation, Carson’s expression had slowly begun to fade from scared to something else entirely. It wasn’t acceptance, per se, but it was close. Whatever it was, she didn’t like it. It came too close to grimm resignation, as though he had not only considered making the trade but had also decided to go through with it.

 

“I’ll do it,” he said with a hoarse voice. He was looking down at the table, careful too keep his true thoughts and expressions to himself. John, Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney were about five nanoseconds from jumping to their feet in outrage when Carson’s head suddenly shot up and the fire in his eyes lite them to a sapphire blue. He looked over at the SGA1 team and said, “But you had better come and get me once the Gabrihath are free or you are the first ones I’m haunting.”

 

**oOo**

To say that Grace was angry was a gross understatement. Livid would be more accurate but even that didn’t quite do it. She wasn’t only angry. She was worried and feeling protective again. This time, reminding herself that she had no right to feel that way towards her boss wasn’t working. She used the excuse that he was also her patient to justify feelings but it didn’t necessarily make her feel any better. Because what she was feeling was coming from her heart and not from her duties as a health professional.

 

Even so, her trepidations didn’t stop her from seeking Carson out. She eventually found him in one of the lower labs with Rodney where the physicist had evidently cornered the Scot into testing out some ancient tech. Stopping in the doorway, Grace leaned against the frame and watched, waiting for Carson to finish up so that she could talk to him without his friend there.

 

The device in his hand spluttered, causing sparks to shoot out and into Carson’s hand. The Scot dropped the device to avoid any further pain and then examined the hand. From her vantage point, Grace could see small red dots, burns no doubt, all over the palm of his hand with a more localized one in the center. It looked red and painful but not serious. Still, she kept quiet, waiting for his rather vehement declaration of not being a battery for Rodney to use whenever he wanted, to end and for him to notice that she was there. Carson turned around and his annoyance seemed to fade as a smile replaced any sign of it.

 

“Grace,” he said and she felt a small thrill when she realized that he actually sounded happy to see her. Granted, after being with Rodney, she wasn’t sure there wasn’t anyone that Carson _wouldn’t_ be happy to see but she still took it at face value and left it alone. “What are you doing here?”

 

She waited for him to get to the doorway before she pushed off it and began walking with him, glad to see that he was heading in the direction of the infirmary, no doubt for some burn cream.

 

“I just got a call from Doctor Weir saying that you are going to give yourself over to the wraith,” she answered with annoyance in her voice. She hadn’t wanted it to slip through but she had had long enough to get worked up about it that controlling her emotions was no longer happening. “Please tell me that she has been misinformed!”

 

With a sigh, Carson stopped and the door to his right opened. Evidently either Atlantis or Carson thought that they needed a more private place to talk and had provided one for them. Grace eyed Carson, daring him to try and go somewhere else and waiting for him to take the hint. He lowered his right hand, which up until this moment had rested in his left, wincing a little, and then walked onto the balcony.

 

He waited until she had joined him and the doors were closed before he answered her. “She hasn’t been misinformed,” he said, using the same voice that she’d heard him use whenever he was talking to an agitated patient.

 

Grace sighed, the sound managing to be angry and annoyed in one. “Carson, what are you thinking?!” she cried out while doing her best to reign in her volume. “Look, I know that you want to help and I also know that this is what the wraith have demanded, but surely sacrificing yourself for a species who would have only betrayed you isn’t worth it.”

 

“That’s not it,” Carson argued back. His voice held resignation, guilt, and exhaustion.

 

It didn’t take a genius to understand why he felt that he had to do this and Grace sighed, grabbing his hands into hers. He winced when her fingers brushed the burn on his palm and so she shifted her hold to his wrist so she didn’t hurt him.

 

“Carson, you do not need to do this,” she said, this time sounding calm and with concerned conviction. His eyes went sad and she knew he was about to say that he did. Well she wasn’t about to listen. “No, you listen to me Carson Beckett. Whatever sins you think you have stacked against you, sacrificing yourself to these monsters won’t wipe that away.” The hurt in his expression had her wincing. She hadn’t meant to make it sound like whatever he’d done would never be forgiven. She shook her head, “That didn’t come out right.” She sighed, frustrated that she couldn’t make herself understood.

 

She finally gave up and gave in to what she truly wanted to do. Dropping his hands, she grabbed his face and pulled him close to her, her brown eyes burning with fire and pleading. She kissed him before he could pull away and was pleasantly surprised when he kissed her back. Pulling away before her message could get lost in her actions, she looked into his beautiful blue eyes and added, “You do not have to pay any sort of penance for what you have done or created while on Atlantis. _Please_ do not give yourself over to these creatures.”

 

With that she walked away before her courage failed her. She had said all that she had come to say and she had done far more than she had ever planned. The rest was up to him.

 

**oOo**

John’s heart was racing. He could feel it as it threatened to beat right out of his chest. He didn’t relent, though. In spite of the burning in his legs and the tiring of his muscles, he refused to stop. His shoulder was beginning to throb in that way that meant that he was going to far but he tucked the arm closer to his body and kept running. Chewie was ahead of him, no doubt laughing because John was lagging behind but come on, he _was_ injured.

 

They both stopped short when the saw Grace Porter come into the hallway, leaving behind the ocean breeze in her wake. She looked..angry. Not just angry, though, John thought, but that was the most prevalent emotion on her face. She didn’t notice either him or Ronon as she very deliberately did not look to where she’d just left. Clearly, she had had an altercation with someone and was fighting the urge to continue.

 

When Carson exited not long after, John had to fight the impulses of laughing and hiding. The bewildered expression on the Scot’s face was one that John had seen many a time on a man who had just gotten thrown for a loop by a woman and the sight of it had John wanting to snigger and tease him. However, self-preservation also had him thinking that it was best to run off in the immediate and opposite direction so that the doctor didn’t notice just how not-good of a patient he was being.

 

Unfortunately for him, fate was a fickle bitch and she’d decided that he needed a telling off. His shoulder, which was screaming its own complaints, agreed and wasn’t relenting any time soon. Carson’s face went from dumbstruck to angry-Scot in an instant. Then, almost as soon as it had begun, the expression faded into one of neutrality and acceptance. Evidently the doctor wasn’t in the mood to be annoyed at the moment.

 

John was happy to note that Carson’s limp, which had been quite noticeable when they’d arrived back on Atlantis, was no longer easily seen. He was glad that the injury which Major Leonard had caused was finally receding, little by little. Sure there were times when it was still obvious but they were few and far between, providing Carson – and his staff, John suspected – took care of himself.

 

“Been running, have ye?” Carson asked, his accent getting just a little bit thicker. Okay, so maybe he _did_ have the energy to get angry. Still, John took it as a good sign that he wasn’t being ushered to the infirmary while be berated by the Scot.

 

“Had some energy to burn,” Ronon answered with a shrug. It was apparent that he didn’t see the point in hiding the truth and so, basically, threw John under the proverbial bus.

 

“Aye, I’m sure ya did. But did it ever occur to either of you that the Colonel does not, in fact, need to burn off the energy by running with a bloody hole in his shoulder?”

 

Yep, Carson was actually mad. Oh well, there was nothing John could do about that now.

 

“I’m fine,” he said in his casual way, adding a one-shouldered shrug into the mix for good measure.

 

“And I suppose that the small droplets of blood I can see on your tee shirt are nothing as well?”

 

John grimaced. He knew he shouldn’t have worn the gray this morning! He looked to, not surprised to find that Carson was right. What the doctor had described as ‘droplets’ however was more akin to a rather small trickle. John hadn’t even noticed it until the Scot had pointed it out and he now knew that the infirmary was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not.

 

Without saying anything more, Carson walked up to John and began to inspect the wound. More than once, John heard the doctor’s breath catch and he didn’t fail to notice that it usually coincided with whenever the palm of Carson’s right hand brushed against his shirt or his skin. He didn’t say anything about it because he would rather not draw Carson’s attention to him but one look at Chewie told him that Ronon had noticed it to.

 

“Ye might as well follow me to the infirmary,” Carson said once he’d finished and stepped back.

 

A small flash of red on the Scot’s hand drew John’s notice and he nodded to it. “What happened to your hand, Doc?”

 

Carson looked down at the limb in question and then rolled his eyes. “Rodney and his bloody ancient devices. I was heading to the infirmary to get some cream for it when I got sidetracked.”

 

“I’ll bet you did.” Ronon’s rough grumble was filled with humor and John couldn’t help but smile as well.

 

“And that’s enough about that, thank you Ronon,” Carson said as he stepped to the side. “If you’ll excuse us, the Colonel and I have a stop to make before he gets back to work.”

 

Ronon’s eyes practically sparkled with laughter but he walked away without saying another word. John made it all of ten steps before he couldn’t hold back any longer. “So,” he said as nonchalantly as he knew how. “I see Grace finally spoke up.”

 

Next to him, Carson sighed. “Aye, that she did.”

 

Something in the way Carson said it had John thinking that more than something fun had happened. He was certain there had been a kiss, there was no doubt of that, but his friend also looked thoughtful which meant that Grace had said something which made the Scot think. Curious as to what she had said, John asked, “I take it it wasn’t all pleasant things.”

 

Carson was quiet for a while before he responded. “Well, it depends on your definition of pleasant, doesn’t it?” He looked at John who’s expression never changed and then he sighed. “She’s not happy about our next mission.”

 

And who could blame her? John wasn’t sure what the exact number was but he knew that it was at least the entirety of Carson’s staff, plus John’s own team who knew that Grace had a thing for Carson. In fact, he was willing to be that the only person to whom it had been a surprise was Carson himself. From there, it wasn’t too big of a leap to guess that Grace was unhappy because Carson was basically agreeing to being held prisoner and no doubt tortured for a race that couldn’t care less about his well-being. Hell, _John_ wasn’t happy about it and he was only coming at it from a friend’s perspective! He couldn’t imagine how it would have been coming from a lover’s.

 

Still, there was no need to tell Carson all this. He knew how everyone felt. No one had held back their opinions in the meeting, except of course for the Doctor and Rose, whom seemed to simply accept the decision at face value. The idea that the timelord also planned on going didn’t settle well with John whatsoever but as he knew that the wraith were a bigger threat to Carson than the alien with a blue spaceship, he had held his tongue on that score.

 

“She thinks that I’m doing this out of misplaced desire for penance,” Carson said, shocking John with his frankness. Usually Carson wasn’t the one to open up to John; he usually went to Rodney for that. But given that the Scot was probably a bit annoyed with the physicist at the moment, John supposed that he was the next best thing.

 

“Are you?” he asked, careful to keep his tone neutral. He agreed wholeheartedly with Grace but he wasn’t about to say that to Carson if the man didn’t agree.

 

This time Carson’s sigh was heavy and filled with all the perceived sins that he’d accumulated. He didn’t need to say more as John heard what the Scot was unwilling to voice. Yes, Carson did agree, but not entirely. To Carson, he did deserve some sort of punishment for his part in creating the virus that served as motivation for the wraith to wipe out hundreds of villages. While John could both understand and empathize with that, he didn’t agree.

 

But how did he explain that to Carson in a way that he wouldn’t bristle immediately?

 

He was saved from having to try by their arrival at the infirmary. While Carson guided him to a bed that was out of the way of potential traffic, the doctor also grabbed a suture kit, gloves, what appeared to be a tube of ointment a gauze patch and a roll of gauze. Evidently he planned on taking care of himself as well as John.

 

Once John was seated and the curtain was drawn, Carson went to work on patching up the laser wound. Thanks to the heat of the blast, there had been a lot of work which had gone in to making sure that his shoulder healed correctly. The energy had cauterized the wound, making it so the surgical team had had to cut out that prematurely sealed tissue before sewing the hold shut. From what John could tell, the internal muscles and tissue were healing nicely but the jogging _had_ managed to tear a couple of the stitches that had been placed on the surface.

 

While Carson worked, John thought. He bit his lip, chewing on it as though he were trying out the words he wanted to say and disliking them all.

 

“She’s right, you know,” he said after a minute. Carson took a second to look at him but made no response before he went back to his work. “Grace, I mean,” John added for clarification. “What you plan on doing won’t change anything.” Carson’s hands stilled and John knew that he had reached to the heart of things. He didn’t like how little this could really help but he continued anyways as Carson did the same. “I know that you feel guilty for the Hoffan plague, the retrovirus, and Michael. But we were all just trying to survive in a world that seemed so alien to us that we didn’t know how to effectively protect ourselves.” Again, Carson’s hands stilled for a second and John could see his friend’s breathing increase but still, the doctor said nothing. “And yeah, I’m guessing that Michael did something to you when he captured you, and while I don’t know specifically what it was I can take a guess.”

 

This time, Carson stopped entirely, evidently finished with his work as he peeled off his gloves with a wince and went to the nearest sink to wash his hands. He gently patted the right one and then deposited the paper towel into the trash, coming to sit back down in the exam area.

 

While Carson then started to gingerly rub some of the cream into his palm, John went on. “I think that Michael created a virus of his own,” he said, lowering his voice so that only Carson could hear. The extreme concentration with which the doctor was using told John that he was getting closer. Carson’s breathing slowly began to get faster and though he had to know that he was being watched, he didn’t look at John at all. “I think Michael used the virus on you so that you could know how it felt when you used the retrovirus on the wraith.”

 

And the thought of that made John want to go running again. More than anything, he wanted to take his anger out on Michael, but since he couldn’t, he would settle for pounding it out on the floors of Atlantis. It was cruel enough to be entirely something that Michael would do, but what made it worse, John thought, was when the Doctor had said that the half-wraith had been right to do it; that Carson had needed a taste of his own medicine. _That_ had been the final nail in the guilt coffin.

 

“Do you believe in Karma, Colonel?” Carson asked, his voice barely a whisper. His hands were in his lap and unmoving. It appeared as though he’d finally given up on the act of doctoring himself for the moment and now he simply sat there, staring at the limbs with equal parts desolation and anger.

 

John eased off the bed, doing his best not to move his arm so that Carson wouldn’t have to redo the stitches so soon. He pulled up a chair, instead, and sat across from Carson. Although he wasn’t as trained in the medical field as the Scot, he had enough med training to be able to finish up what Carson had started.

 

“No,” he said as he grabbed the Scot’s hand and placed the patch over the burn. With swift and effective movements, he wrapped the gauze bandaging around the patch and then placed tape over the end piece. No doubt Carson or one of his staff could have done better but john wasn’t about to invite anyone over to hear this conversation. The news of everything that Carson was trying to keep private would spread like wildfire. “And if I did, I still wouldn’t believe that you deserved that.”

 

**_And nor does the Doctor._ **

****

Both John and Carson jumped at the new voice within their heads. John winced when the movement jerked his shoulder and Carson looked around to make sure that no one else was there before he had realized that it had been Atlantis.

 

 _Give us some warning next time,_ John groused at the city.

 

 ** _My apologies,_** Atlantis said, though the city/ship sounded anything but regretful. Even though neither man could see her, they both knew that she had transferred her attention from John back to Carson. **_I know that he may seem..rude and cold. But the Doctor is a child of a war long past which still affects him. When he sees things that could potentially lead to the same thing that happened to him, he gets angry. The timelord had two hearts and both are capable of great caring. But both are filled with centuries of pain and guilt. He spoke unjustly to you, my child, when you were on the wraith ship. He_ is _sorry for that, though I do not believe that he will ever admit to that._**

****

**No, he will not,** a new voice added and both men winced at the strength of the presence. They felt it instantly pull back so that it was much dimmer and the voiced added, **My apologies, Atlanteans. I did not realize how strongly you could hear me. My understanding was that your connection with Atlantis was stronger and therefore you would not be able to understand me as clearly. However, what Atlantis says is truth – the Doctor does not believe that the wraith known as Michael was in the right when he tortured you, Doctor Beckett. My thief often lets his words come out without bothering to think of the consequences to those around him.**

Carson’s smile was genuine but unconvinced. _I appreciate that ladies, thank you._

None who were involved in the conversation believed him but none called him on it.

 

 ** _Get some rest, my children,_** Atlantis said and they felt the presence of the TARDIS withdraw from their minds. **_You both have much to prepare for and tomorrow, I fear, will be the start of a difficult and troubling week._**

****

And with that, Atlantis also withdrew from their minds, leaving John and Carson to contemplate on the implications of her pronouncement on their own.

 

**TBC**

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter XIV**

Over the next couple of days, the Atlanteans spent most of their time preparing for their upcoming mission. Gear was double and triple checked, plans were gone over a third, fourth, and fifth time with each side vetting the other to make sure there would be no surprises this time around, and medicals were done daily on those that had been injured during their last mission to ensure they were physically and emotionally fit to go off-world again. It left them all quite busy with little time for much beyond their jobs, eating, and sleeping.

 

On the eve of the mission, the group met one final time to make sure that they were as covered and ready as they could be. Not surprisingly, the wraith had been more than happy to accept the new amendment to their proposal; they were wiling to have the Doctor on board as well as Carson in exchange for the Gabrihath. It unnerved them all, except the Doctor naturally, that the wraith seemed so eager for the alien to come aboard and they had spent a good hour trying to figure out what the wraith were up to but to no avail. Each person had their own opinions over what the wraith wanted but without having the full story, which they all knew very well that they didn’t, they could do little more than guess.

 

Afterwards, they all ate together, shared stories, and tried to create an atmosphere without tension. Things between John and the Doctor were still on edge but after having seen that Carson bore no grudge against the alien, the pilot tried to do the same. John wasn’t one to hold on to things when there were more important matters on his mind, but he also had a protective nature that always came out when it came to his team and his friends. He recognized that he was foolish to believe that the Doctor would try to hurt Beckett, John couldn’t dispel the belief that the alien would hand Carson over without a fight if it meant saving someone else and that didn’t sit will with John. Still, he did his best to move forward and let things lie. If their plan worked well, it wouldn’t matter because the Doctor wouldn’t be left alone with Carson for that long.

 

The dawn of the next morning came too brightly for half their party. Rose, Rodney, and Carson all trudged into the gateroom looking bleary-eyed and only half awake while Ronon, John, Teyla, and the Doctor were all smiles, good cheer, and general energy. Only Lorne seemed neither awake nor tired.

 

In the back of his mind, John heard the Doctor communicating with both Atlantis and the TARDIS.

 

_Are you two sure about this?_

**_We are,_** both ships answered in unison. As far as John knew, Atlantis didn’t actually have a part to play in this mission. So, why then, was the Doctor conferring with her?

 

The timelord’s eyes slid towards John as though noticing for the first time that he could hear them as well. _Ah, right,_ the Doctor’s voice echoed through his mind. _I forgot you lot can hear them as well._

_What is it you plan for Atlantis to do?_ John asked, instantly suspicious and concerned. He knew the city could very well take care of herself but the fact that the Doctor might be planning something that could affect the whole of the Atlantis expedition wasn’t sitting well with him.

 

John’s vocalization got Carson’s attention and soon the three of them were all involved in the conversation with the two ships.

 

 _What’s this now?_ Carson asked, his tone a lot friendlier than John’s but still obviously wanting to know what was going on.

 

 ** _I am doing nothing, John,_** Atlantis answered. **_I agreed to help if needed but it will not affect those whom I protect._**

****

**The other humans will be fine, Colonel Sheppard. It is the health of yourself and your team which you must worry about,** the TARDIS added, sounding a lot less comforting than Atlantis did.

 

 _I’m more worried about how we’re going to get onto the hive ship,_ John said, making sure to keep the part about how he was more worried about the ship getting them to the right destination without someone to tell her where to go.

 

The TARDIS gave an almost angry sounding wheeze, flashing her light with intensity at John. Evidently the ship could hear what he wasn’t saying and didn’t like what he was implying.

 

 _Easy, ol’ girl,_ the Doctor soothed, his voice almost passing for a hand that was rubbing her, calming her. _Remember, he’s not used to a ship that ignores what she’s told and does whatever she wants._

The TARDIS gave another angry sound and John saw the Doctor wince as though he’d been struck. When the timelord opened his mouth to retort, Atlantis broke in.

 

 ** _Enough._** It was a command but it hadn’t been harshly given. Still, it was obvious that both the TARDIS and the Doctor were paying attention because they seemed to quit with their bickering. **_Remember, timelord, that she is young as are you. You both need more time to grow._**

****

Well, that was something that John was sure neither the Doctor nor the TARDIS heard everyday. From what he had understood from their first meeting with the alien, the Doctor was more than five hundred years old as was his ship. Therefore, having someone call them young was a new experience for the both of them. However, since Atlantis was around a couple thousand years old, John felt that she was the most qualified to do it.

 

In front of them, the gate activated and the wormhole was established. Its brilliance outshined even the TARDIS’ strongest try, and as per his usual, John couldn’t bring himself not to stare at it. Although he had been on Atlantis for going on five years, seeing the Stargate activate and the blue sheen of the wormhole was something that never got old. It was comforting in ways that he never thought possible. He was only saddened that this time, he would not be going through it. No, that job lay with Carson and the Doctor – followed by Lorne, Rodney, and Rose, of course. John, Ronon, and Teyla were going to be inside the TARDIS, following the Doctor and Carson onto the hive ship, lying in wait for when it was the right time to attack.

 

During their time back on Atlantis, Rodney had had time to discover that the ancient device he had found on Gabr was actually something akin to Atlantis’ shield. It didn’t run on a ZPM like Atlantis’ did, and it was because of that, that Rodney was certain that he would be able to get it active. In fact, their entire plan depended on that. Because if he didn’t, and John and Ronon helped get Carson and the Doctor off the hive ship too soon, there would be hell to pay from the wraith and the Gabrihath would be the ones to pay it.

 

“This is your last chance to back out,” Elizabeth’s voice said from the balcony above them. No one responded since they all knew whom she was addressing.

 

To John’s left, Carson swallowed. “Lower the shield.”

 

**oOo**

Rose watched as the Doctor and Doctor Beckett entered the Stargate. The device was as beautiful and wondrous as the TARDIS herself. Ever since she and the Doctor had arrived on Atlantis, Rose only just now realized that she hadn’t had much time to consider the gate and how these humans travel between worlds so quickly.

 

The Stargate itself was enormous. It succeeded in making her feel small and minuscule, though whether or not that was the point, she didn’t know. She’d heard chatter throughout a lot of the crew saying that the ancients, whom were responsible for building Atlantis as well as the Stargates, were quite arrogant in their manners. Meaning, that it was quite possible that they built the gates so gigantic to not only allow spaceships to enter but to make those that they deemed less than them to feel it.

 

The blue, watery-like substance in the middle of the gate, which was the wormhole itself apparently, flowed like liquid. It sounded like a pool of water had filled the Stargate and the blue shimmer of it shone out at her and filled the gateroom with its glow. Even with its brightness, the light seemed warm and comforting and she noticed how the Atlanteans seemed reluctant to turn it off. Granted, that could have been because one of their own had gone through the gate and his return wasn’t guaranteed, but Rose had a feeling it was a mixture of both.

 

 _“Doctor Beckett to Atlantis.”_ Carson’s voice filled the gateroom. Or at least, that was how it sounded to Rsoe. It was actually more that he was not only on the comm speaker at the tech booth at the top of the stairs, but he was also coming through the personal comms which her, and almost everyone else in the gateroom wore. Rose noted that he sounded a little nervous, but his voice was still strong, almost confident as he talked. _“We’ve arrived but there’s no one around.”_ There was a pause and then the gate suddenly shut off.

 

Rose wasn’t the first to jump forward in alarm by any means, but she wasn’t the last either. Colonel Sheppard had been the first, but whereas Rose had gone toward the Stargate, the pilot had immediately run up the stairs to the tech booth where Doctor Weir and the technician, Chuck, were. Changing direction with little trouble, Rose followed him, albeit with somewhat less ease. She arrived at the booth with her chest heaving, her heart racing, and her nerves on high alert.

 

“What happened?” she asked a little breathily.

 

Teyla, who had reacted as the colonel had and had gone immediately up the stairs, answered for the group. “The wraith.” She hadn’t said anything beyond the two words but she had put so much meaning behind them – was that anger as well? – that Rose didn’t have a problem figuring out what she hadn’t said.

 

“They cut the gate to assure that we wouldn’t interfere,” Ronon said from behind Teyla. His tone was neutral, uncaring almost, but the spark that Rose saw in his eyes spoke of death for those that harmed Carson or the Doctor.

 

She found it curious that the big man was so protective of someone that he barely knew, especially given that his best friend didn’t seem to like the timelord, but she was grateful that he was in any case. It helped to reassure her that the Doctor wouldn’t be abandoned for the sake of getting the Scot back. Not that she thought the Atlanteans would do that, per se, but it still. Better safe than sorry.

 

“Which means that we better get going,” the Colonel said before beginning to head back down the stairs and to the TARDIS.

 

Rose still objected to being forced to go along with Doctor McKay and Major Lorne when the others were taking the TARDIS. She didn’t like the idea of the Atlanteans having the ship, especially without her or the Doctor there, but she had been talked over and overruled every time she’d voiced her opinion.

 

 **Do no worry, dear Rose,** the TARDIS assured her after sensing her anxiety. **I will be fine.** Rose felt a heat sear through her and enter her skin. Unlike most, this warmth was comfortable and not harmful. Rose had felt it before and she knew it to be the TARDIS giving her some of the time energy which helped the TARDIS operate and the Doctor regenerate. **Besides,** the TARDIS added, **a part of me will be with you.**

This was the Doctor’s solution to how she, Doctor McKay and Major Lorne were going to communicate with the Gabrihath. Since Colonel Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla were taking the TARDIS, there wasn’t going to be an easy or clear way for her and her faction to talk to the inhabitants on Gabr. However, the Doctor reasoned that since Rose had taken in some of the TARDIS before, providing the ship could transfer it safely and only a little bit, she could do so again. Rather than being infected with it like she had been, Rose had been given only a smidge of what was available but both the Doctor and the TARDIS were sure that it would be enough for her to act as a translating circuit for the two groups.

 

At first Rose had been shocked that the Doctor would be so cavalier with her life, and apparently he had realized it because he and the TARDIS had, within the confines of Doctor Beckett’s lab and with the help of the Scot himself, created a stabilizer which would prevent Rose’s cells from shutting down automatically when the energy got transferred. She could feel her body becoming stronger, more resistant to the damage that the regeneration energy was causing and she let out a sigh of relief. Doctor McKay was confident that he could get the shield up, and therefore get the Doctor, Carson, Colonel Sheppard’s team, _and_ the TARDIS back to Atlantis with enough time to save her from having to worry about the long-term affects of the drugs and the energy.

 

Rose followed the others down to the TARDIS, forgetting for a moment that she wasn’t going to go along with them, and then stopped just short of entering the ship. She ached to join them, but the time energy within in her swirled, comforting her in the same way that the TARDIS would have done.

 

“Are you sure you can fly that thing?” Doctor Weir asked. Her voice coming from right behind Rose startled her. She hadn’t expected the leader to follow her down the stairs too. Already a bit testy from Colonel Sheppard, the TARDIS wheezed angrily at the woman. “Sorry,” she said, “her. Are you sure you can fly her?”

 

“The TARDIS flies herself, really,” Rose answered and not for the first time. “She will take them to the hive ship and wait for the Doctor’s return.”

 

Doctor Weir still looked skeptical but worry was just underneath. Rose understood both. This woman was trusting her closest friends to a technology, a ship, and a pair of people that she didn’t know or understand. She didn’t want to lose them because of an error; whether that be from asking too many or too little questions or something else entirely.

 

The leader of expedition looked over to where Colonel Sheppard stood in the TARDIS’ doorway. Her blue eyes were warm but determined. “Be careful,” she said and Rose knew that that wasn’t the first time that she had said that. “And bring them home.”

 

Sheppard nodded and then looked over to Major Lorne, whom, Rose understood, was his second in command. “Lorne, make sure McKay doesn’t mess around or screw up.”

 

“Oh, excuse me, when I have _ever_ screwed up, Colonel “Let’s wake up the wraith”?”

 

Sheppard had done what? That was news to her. Maybe she could get Doctor McKay to tell her more while they’re on Gabr.

 

“One word, Rodney – Doranda.”

 

At that, Doctor McKay’s face when white and he swallowed convulsively. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that ever again?” he asked, still sounding peevish though he looked positively sick.

 

Sheppard didn’t respond, but the smile had been wiped off his face long before he’d said anything and it didn’t look like it was about to return any time soon. Clearly whatever Doranda was was a sore subject.

 

“Will do, sir,” Major Lorne said, moving them all long from the uncomfortableness that had begun to settle all over them. “Bring Doctor Beckett back safely. Otherwise, sir, I’ll let _you_ explain it to Doctor Porter.”

 

The colonel physically shivered at that idea and Rose had to chuckle. She had noticed the looks that Doctors Porter and Beckett had been trading when they thought no one was looking. Clearly something had happened between the two to further their relationship in some way but she wasn’t sure what. Which meant that even _she_ wasn’t sure that she wanted to be the one to tell Grace that Carson hadn’t returned. 

 

Without another word, the colonel shut the TARDIS door and then she was wheezing her way into oblivion and onto the hive ship.

 

Major Lorne waited about five minutes before he ushered her and Doctor McKay through the Stargate. The weather seemed to have gotten colder since she was last there. She buttoned up her coat and threw up her hood as snow blew into her face and hair and Rose suddenly found herself very grateful that the Atlanteans had not only insisted on everyone wearing warmer clothing but had also checked the weather before they had gone through the gate.

 

The gate was abandoned and it seemed no welcome party was to be sent for them this time. Given the weather, that wasn’t all that surprising. If it were up to her, _she_ wouldn’t be out in the cold either.

 

Rose shared a look with the major before she began to trudge her way towards the entry for the underground tunnels. She knew that the Gabrihath would most likely intercept them long before they actually reached the city, but she didn’t see the point in simply waiting around fro them to come. The major, as well as Doctor McKay seemed to agree, for they both followed her, the military man taking point just in front of her while Doctor McKay held back, reading whatever readouts were flashing on his datapad’s screen.

 

As expected, they hadn’t gone far before a group of six Gabrihath warriors riding their werewolf-like mounts met them. Among them was Kola, whose dark complexion and braided ebony hair contrasted sharply with his mounts pure white fur, and Koltar, whose pale skin, hair and ice-blue eyes seemed to melt into the background until all that could be seen was his chestnut-colored mount. Rose felt her heart drop and her wariness increase at the sight of the brute who had unapologetically beaten the Doctor on their first meeting. She hid it as best she could as she smiled at the friendlier of the two.

 

“You will come with us,” Koltar announced, evidently being the spokesperson for the group.

 

Doctor McKay and Major Lorne both looked at her with confused expressions and then she remembered that only she could understand both races. Rose was so used to it happening automatically that she’d forgotten that this time around, it was only her.

 

“He says we are to go with him,” she said, careful to keep her tone neutral and clear of any fear or trepidation she felt.

 

Major Lorne didn’t answer her or give a reply for her to translate. He simply looked at the self-imposed leader of the group and nodded. Apparently there were no words needed for that action to be understood and Koltar immediately turned his mount around and began leading them.

 

While the humans trickled into the same formation as earlier, the Gabrihath slowly surrounded them. Rose didn’t miss that Kola had positioned himself right by her or the looks that Koltar seemed to be receiving from the rest of his men, but what they meant, Rose wasn’t ready to say. At least, not until she’d had a chance to talk with Kola.

 

“He is not happy that you are back,” the Gabrihath said. His voice was gentle and almost quiet as though to explain away his leader’s rudeness. “He believes that we should no longer have any dealings with you or your kind.”

 

Rose swallowed that for a minute, mulling it over as she decided that it would be best to keep her distance from Koltar in case the being got ideas beyond those of his orders. “And you?” she asked, halfway scared of the answer though she knew that it wouldn’t be a negative one.

 

Kola shrugged, the movement seeming stiff. “I am happy to see that you are well but I must confess myself confused as to the reason for your return.”

 

“Did Kliptock not tell you?” She thought it a bit odd that their leader hadn’t shared the information with them but maybe he had only done so with Koltar? Rose couldn’t fathom the reason behind that but as Kliptock was the leader and not her, she wasn’t going to necessarily question it yet, either.

 

“He still favors Koltar,” was all that Kola said but the careful neutrality of the statement suggested other things.

 

Rose opened her mouth to hint at the possible ramifications that Kola might have suffered but the growl at the head of the group stopped her. Whether it had come from Koltar or his mount, she hadn’t a clue, but she knew what it had meant all the same – stop talking! Throwing Kola an apologetic look, she distanced herself from him so as to not get him into any more trouble, and then ducked her head to keep the snow from getting into her eyes.

 

How long they walked, she couldn’t guess and nor did she want to. She was honestly just grateful that Doctor McKay hadn’t started complaining about it. There was no doubt in her mind that, even though Koltar wouldn’t be able to understand what the physicist was saying, the tone alone would translate and the leader wouldn’t tolerate it. While she didn’t necessarily _like_ Doctor McKay, she would never want him subject to the abuse that Koltar would dole out if something didn’t go his way.

 

By the time they had reached the undergrounds, which were only marginally warmer than the outside, Rose was frozen solid. Her hands were stiff and almost numb from the cold as was any other part which had been left exposed. Every intake of breath was sharp and painful and seemed to freeze in her throat as her uncooperative lungs seemed to refuse to take in too much. Looking over at her companions, she could see that they weren’t much better off, but no one seemed keen to mention their discomfort.

 

Koltar led them to what seemed to be a stable of sorts, where the Gabrihath dismounted and led their animals to their proper stalls. None of the Gabrihath seemed intent on the animals’ comforts since not one of them fed or watered their mounts before closing the doors and dispersing into the various hallways and doors that led off of the room. Only Koltar and Kola remained, and the leader gave Kola such a look of hatred that Rose became unsure as to why Kola was hanging around.

 

“You are free to go,” Koltar all but snapped at his companion.

 

But Kola remained where he was, returning the other’s glare with an even but determined look of his own. “Kliptock has instructed me to remain with the humans at all times.”

 

At that, Koltar seemed to sneer. Evidently he thought that “babysitting” a bunch of humans was the perfect job for Kola, as it was simply beneath him or any of his men to do. Kola, it seemed, didn’t agree but nor did he look like he disagreed. His expression relayed compliance with orders and nothing more.

 

Koltar transferred his attention from Kola to the humans, his look becoming instantly chilling. “Stay close,” he snapped, “I cannot vouch for the behavior of my men should you wander.”

 

And with that, the brutish Gabrihath spun on his heel and marched in the direction that they had entered. Rose, Major Lorne, and Doctor McKay all looked at one another, the worry which Rose felt reflecting in Rodney’s eyes while sardonic resignation resided on the major’s face. Then, without another word, they all scampered to catch up and not be left behind.

 

Just before they had reached Koltar, Rose heard Major Lorne whisper, “This should make for an interesting day,” and Rose couldn’t help but agree. If only he hadn’t meant it in a bad way.

 

**oOo**

In the hive ship, Carson and the Doctor sat in their own, separate, cells, waiting for whatever would happen. The wraith had surprised them on Gabr, stunning them just as Carson was about to relay that no one was around. When he awoke, the Doctor was already pacing in his cell, scanning it with his “sonic screwdriver”, and not looking even the least bit worried. Carson, who has placed in a cell across the hall from the Doctor, wished that he could be as calm and as curious while aboard the ship, but he just couldn’t. No matter how many times he was captures, he would never be able to feel any sort of calm as he waited for the wraith.

 

Since they had been thoroughly searched and separated from most of what they had possessed, Carson found it strange that they had left the Doctor with his screwdriver, especially given what he’d been able to do the last time the timelord had been captured. But, there he was, in his brown, pin-striped suit, glasses on, hair amiss, as he spun on his wheel, scanning anything and everything.

 

“I don’t think you deserved it, by the way.”

 

Carson’s head shot up, shock running through his veins. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more, the words that had been said or the fact that the timelord had spoken at all. Since he still had his watch, he knew for certain that it had been hours since they’d been taken and not a word had been uttered between them. “I’m sorry?” he said, wanting to make sure that it hadn’t been a fluke.

 

The timelord stopped his scanning, lowered the screwdriver to his torso where he deposited it into an unseen pocket, and then focused solely onto Carson. His expression was an odd mixture of compassion, apology, and ferocity. What the last one was aimed at, Carson couldn’t guess but he knew the first two, knew them well as a matter of fact; he wanted to smile and reassure the alien that there were no hard feelings but he refrained, waiting for the timelord to speak first.

 

“The TARDIS – or was it Atlantis? I couldn’t tell – showed me what you went through when you were in the hands of the wraith, Michael,” the Doctor began and Carson had to stifle a wince at that; he hadn’t wanted to share that memory with anyone, let alone a complete stranger. He supposed that he should feel a little violated by the fact that one of the ships had replayed his own memories for the timelord, but he suspected that it was for a reason and that its purpose was to help the Doctor understand something or other and so he held his tongue. The Doctor lifted his head, as though in defiance, and then he continued, “I still think that it would be good for you lot to feel what the wraith had felt after you had experimented on them, but I do not agree with their methods. You at least tried to do it with as little pain or trauma as possible – the wraith did not.”

 

Carson gave a sardonic smile. “No, they did not,” he agreed in a half-whisper.

 

He could still remember how it felt as Michael’s virus swept through his body, alighting his nerves on fire. His skin crawled as the cocktail made him feel like a stranger within his own body and Carson went from freezing to sweating with differing seconds. He remembered feeling nothing but pain but he didn’t know the cause or what has happening as he felt it – his world had been too consumed with agony for him to care.

 

Any further conversation was brought to a halt as the sound of pounding footsteps echoed through the hall. Carson was pulled out of his memories by a wraith roughly hauling him out of his cell. Not having realized that the “space vampires” were there, the Scot looked around confused as he tried to get his bearings. Only once he had figured out what was going on did he look towards the Doctor’s cell to see if they were doing the same to the timelord. They were being marginally gentler about it but they, yes, the Doctor was being evacuated from his cell and pushed forward to follow the drones.

 

All while they marched, two drones stood at Carson’s sides, cold, strong hands, gripping his forearms with enough strength to surely bruise. The Doctor walked just to Carson’s right, standing back enough to allow room for the drone but keeping close enough so that he could follow and not be separated.

 

They were taken to a room which Carson _almost_ recognized. It was set up in the similar way that most wraith labs were. There were minor differences, of course, and one of those was that, behind the tech station was a raised dais where three thrones sat, one more superimposed than the others. In those chairs sat three wraith queens, two of which Carson recognized. The third, Carson was sure he’d never met before but as she differed so little from the other two, he didn’t really pay much attention to her.

 

In the corner, in a cage that was barely big enough to house a bear, stood two wraith drones. Or at least, Carson thought they had been at one point in time. One was completely human, though still held the build and hair color for a drone. The other looked a lot like Michael, the exception being that he still had his long blonde hair. Both had obviously been affected by the retrovirus and they were clearly there to stand as test subjects. Carson swallowed at the thought of live-testing but soon his gaze swept further about the room and he felt his heart drop.

 

A family sat huddled in another cage in the opposite corner. Carson had never seen them before but he had no doubt as to their purpose. They were test subjects as well but for a completely different outcome and procedure. They had the Hoffan plague; the feeding marks on the chests of the adults – there were no children – attested to that.

 

“Welcome, Doctor and Doctor Beckett,” Amara hissed in her wraith voice. There was a hint of laughter in it, as though she knew exactly how the test subjects made both of them feel and she was delighting in their anger. “I see that you approve of your future experiments.”

 

“Let them go, Amara!” the Doctor snapped with more emotion than Carson had seen the timelord show in a while.

 

The redheaded queen sneered in a way that only a human-wraith hybrid could do, then she smiled. “I think not, Doctor,” she said, though Carson already knew that. She nodded to one of the drones that surrounded Carson and Carson watched as the Doctor was shackled and chained to the wall in the middle of the two cages. The timelord didn’t comment as he was treated like a prisoner about to be tortured; he merely glared at Amara, the look of what Rose had defined as the “Oncoming Storm” settling on his face.

 

Carson was so focused on what was going on around him that he didn’t even notice as more wraith surrounded him. It wasn’t until he was grabbed and practically thrown at the foot of the dais. He landed with a hard thud, not having expected the rough treatment, groaning when his knees slammed into the unyielding floor.

 

“Oh, come on, there’s no need to get rough,” the Doctor argued from his perch at the wall.

 

The queen to Amara’s left hissed at the Doctor and her hands grabbed the seat but that was the only reaction that they gave to the timelord. No, that wasn’t true. Amara smiled even wider and Carson thought that it was the scariest thing he had seen.

 

“Oh, I know,” she said, her voice almost cooing. She stood and glided over to where Carson still knelt. Her feeding hand trailed over Carson, starting at his neck and gently sliding up to his face before settling on the back of his neck. Carson shivered with the feel of the mark, remembering the feeling of being fed on with perfect clarity. Her hand tightened on the back of his neck and he yelped in surprise as the grip soon became crushingly painful. She lifted him off his knees and turned them both so that they were facing the Doctor. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t want him to feel a bit of pain,” she said almost sweetly. Carson’s neck soon went numb as she tightened her hold even more and he felt his face flush with the lessened oxygen. “After all,” she continued, though with more sour than sweet in her tone, “I think it only fair given the suffering he has caused. Don’t you?”

 

“Since when do the wraith care about the pain of their own kind?” Carson ground out before his brain could stop him.

 

She hissed her displeasure at his comment but she didn’t release him. Carson felt her nails digging into his skin as she once again increased her grip. With a sense of extreme unease, the Scot began to wonder precisely _how_ strong the queens were. Every time he thought that she couldn’t squeeze any more, she surprised him by doing just that. The blood tickled as it trickled down his neck and to his collar bone. It was an odd sensation, being caressed by one’s own blood. Carson didn’t laugh, however, as there was nothing remotely funny in this situation.

 

“You might want to curb your tongue, human,” Amara warned. “Lest your usefulness should run out.”

 

The threat was almost politely given but it was a threat nonetheless. In spite of his racing heart and the fear that fueled it, Carson glared at her, as defiant as he could be while being held off the ground by the neck.

 

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice coming out as a growl thanks to the slight pressure on his vocal chords.

 

She smiled a little too sweetly and set him down on his feet. Making sure to trail her nails as hard as she could across his skin as she did, she let go of him and went to sit, magnanimously, on her throne once more.

 

“Isn’t it obvious, doctor?” she asked, regally staring down at him as though he were no more than a bug to be squashed. “We want you to reverse engineer the viruses that you created.”

 

Carson swallowed, wincing slightly when it hurt. “And if I don’t or can’t?”

 

The other wraith queen from before leaned forward, direction his attention at her. “Then, one by one, you will be responsible for the death of every human in this galaxy _and_ yours.”

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duhn..Duhn..DDDUUUHHHNN... 
> 
> So, what do you all think of it so far??


End file.
